


Blue Skies Are Coming (Being Rewritten)

by CloudSpeck



Series: Blue Skies Rewritten [2]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Creature Fic, Creature Jaskier | Dandelion, Depression, Feral Jaskier | Dandelion, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, Immortal Jaskier | Dandelion, Insecure Jaskier | Dandelion, Jealousy, Kaer Morhen, M/M, Multi, Mutual Pining, Non-Human Jaskier | Dandelion, One-Sided Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Platonic Cuddling, Post-Season/Series 01, Protective Eskel (The Witcher), Protective Jaskier | Dandelion, Self-Harm, Slow Burn, Soft Eskel (The Witcher), Tags Are Hard, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:34:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 55,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24163696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CloudSpeck/pseuds/CloudSpeck
Summary: Jaskier travels alone now, until he bumps into a new witcher at a new inn. He decides to talk to him, because, really, what has he to lose? Eskel is nice, much nicer than Geralt...he lets Jaskier unleash some emotional baggage and let's him get in a cuddle. Witchers are so very touch starved. Jaskier is tired of traveling alone, so he invites himself into this new witchers life. It takes Eskel far, far to long to realize who Jaskier actually is...like, a year. Jaskier doesn't help.---This is literally just going to be a self indulgent, headcanon-y, trope filled, all kinds of everything fic, so that I can work on writing and have something to do during the day. Beware and EnjoyMore tags as we go?Rewrite here:Blue Skies Are Coming
Relationships: Eskel/Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion/Lambert
Series: Blue Skies Rewritten [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1888054
Comments: 463
Kudos: 954
Collections: Jaskier or Geralt/others (with or w/out eachother), Witcher





	1. Seen the Whirlwind Unwind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something to try and keep me happy. 
> 
> Will involve fluff and probably multiple pairings...probably not a lot of pairing bashing. 
> 
> Eskel/Jaskier is the main and it DOES take place after the mountain, so there will be some angsty bard goodness.
> 
> There's gonna be tropes and headcanons galore....probably explicit stuff muuuch later. 
> 
> Be warned,, all ye who enter here.

* * *

Be aware that this is being rewritten, please. This is unfinished and the rewrite will have differences to it.

Rewrite: [Here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26012881/chapters/63249124)

* * *

Eskel is not entirely sure what to expect when the bard in bright teal clothes slides into the seat across from him. It's probably just a contract, except the man doesn't look nervous, doesn't smell of fear, and doesn't even eye his swords. The witcher, needless to say, might be puzzled.

"Witcher. School of the Wolf." Is the first thing the singer says to him. Eskel might choke on his ale some.

"Excuse me, bard?" He's a little rough with his words. How the hell does this bard know that? Why would any human have information like that.

There's something of a dramatic huff from the bard and then the exaggerated roll of his eyes. "I said, dear witcher,"

'Dear witcher'? Eskel's fingers tighten on the handle of his mug. He is no one's 'dear' anything. The bard keeps talking even through Eskel's now obvious discomfort.

"'Witcher, School of the Wolf," the bard drums a beat on the table with his fingertips and bites his lower lip. If the witcher was _really_ paying that any mind, he might find it attractive. "I was going to ask if I could buy you lunch, maybe?" The bard's words and stature had started off confident, but slowly he's starting to grow quieter and crouch into himself. Eskel frowns. The singer nods like he's already given an answer.

"I know, broody and loner sorts. It's okay." He nods again and goes to stand. Without permission, Eskel's hand strikes out and pulls him back down by the wrist.

"Jaskier, traveling bard, charmed to be at your service," There's a slowly blooming smile on his face and the witcher thinks, ridiculously, that there should always be one there. The name does sound vaguely familiar and there is still the confusion of why Jaskier smells of no fear, but the witcher shuts that down for right now.

"Eskel. Distrusting Witcher," Eskel is somewhat uncomfortable, but he wants to keep the bards' confident posture and smile back. The bard laughs brightly.

"Well, Eskel, distrustful witcher. You are already much more humorous than my last traveling companion. Anyway, lunch." The singer slaps his legs as he stands and then makes his way to the bar. Eskel watches after him with puzzlement. His last travel companion? Don't humans travel in groups? Safety and all that.

Eskel voices the thought before the bard even has a chance to sit back down. His cornflower eyes shutter and his mouth flattens, all expression gone, but it only lasts a moment. The witcher catches it anyway and feels even more uncomfortable. Maybe his companion died? The singer sighs quietly and takes his seat, more subdued.

"I've been traveling alone for about half a year. My last companion...we traveled together a long time. He made it quite clear I was unwelcome by his side any longer." There's anger and heartbreak in his voice, but also resignation, like he knew it had been a long time coming. "He was such a muse. I wrote so many beautiful songs for him. Certainly some he'll never even have the pleasure of hearing." And Eskel is reminded of the familiarity again. "You're probably not interested in any of this. No one likes a bard with maudlin tales." The singer's hand waves in the air like it's trying to encompass all his words.

Eskel's brows furrow and he shakes his head minutely. "Nothing wrong with a bard that tells maudlin tales. Everyone's got a maudlin tale to tell." It's hardly philosophical, but the bard looks at him like he's the most wondrous thing and if Eskel could blush, he thinks he probably would do exactly that.

"Dear witcher, thank you for letting me tell you this tale. I could not even tell the other professors at Oxenfurt. So thank you." And then the bard is off. He never names a name and he sounds vaguely agitated throughout it all, but he sounds like he's really needed to let it out, so the witcher just pays close attention and lets him go. The bard really is quite animated.

"I was eighteen when we met." That makes sense, they must have only traveled a few years together. Young men always seem to fall in love too quickly, if the poems are anything to go by. "I was just out of the academy you see, for music and philosophy...though I finished with all seven...but that's not the point. I'd started traveling by myself, wanted to be a proper traveling bard...Gods, to imagine how disappointed my father would have been in me. Truly disgusted." He snorts at that and Eskel is left to wonder at the odd reaction. Jaskier sounds more hurt about his companion than his family? It's strange.

"I was quite unequipped for traveling alone, probably a little too naive on that front. I know better now though." The bard points toward his well stocked pack and Eskel nods along while wondering just how unequipped he'd been. "There was this lovely little inn in Posada...actually no...more like the mostly sickly of selkimore guts...okay, truly not so bad...but the idea stands. They couldn't appreciate what a true talent I am, throwing bread at me and whatnot. I'm a lyrical genius, famous far and wide, I'll have you know." The witcher can't tell if the bright bard is being facetious,, but he _is_ heated now. Jaskier looks pretty when he's angry, flashing blue eyes and red dusted cheeks. The thought makes Eskel stop paying attention for a few minutes.

"-I say to him. 'Let me travel with you.' He may have told me no...and I may have unintentionally called him a rude name...but I hadn't known at the time. He has quite a mean swing though, I'll give him that. Biggest bruise I've ever ended up with...from him at least." He's still talking and Eskel feels like maybe he missed something. Why would you stick around someone who punches you?

"-I got this beauty out of that adventure. She's the only love who hasn't left me." Jaskier runs his hand across his lute lovingly. It looks elven and Eskel is stuck staring at his fingers on it. "Filavandrel gifted it to me as an apology." His fingers strum over it. "I wrote my companion a song after that adventure…" He's quiet and frowning again. Eskel's frowning again too. "He hated it. Hates all my singing really." Now he's shrugging and honestly the witcher is getting whiplash from Jaskier's whirlwind emotions.

"If...If he hated your singing and he resorted to violence with you, why did you follow him?" Eskel asks quietly and Jaskier puffs his cheeks, let's out a long sigh and then smiles wistfully.

"He was a conundrum to me. I barely knew him, and he was so coarse...but, he was so kind too...with the elves. I'd never seen someone like that. It was-If you'd met a person that really piqued your curiosity and you wanted to know more about them, wouldn't you try to get to know more?"

Eskel taps a finger on the table, thinking it over. Jaskier waits for an answer. "I have a Path I follow, all witchers follow the Path...but, if I didn't-," He leaves it there and the bard nods in understanding. Of course he gets it. He seems the sort that understands things. Jaskier is a curiousity.

"I made him go to a ball- banquet really...betrothal feast- with me once. A couple years, probably more, after our first adventure." A couple years? Okay, so Jaskier may be slightly older than the young 20s he looks?

"I asked him to play my bodyguard...I used to be-I was very-I mean, okay, so no judging, but I was a...hmm. Desire, very desired, but dumb. Oo, one second." Eskel watched him with a raised eyebrow as he pulled a notebook and quill from his pack with interest and started mumbling and scratching something out.

"...Desire to us  
Was like a double death  
Swift dying  
Of our mingled breath  
Evaporation  
Of an unknown strange perfume  
Between us quickly  
In a naked  
Room."

Eskel didn't realize he had leant in to watch him write until the bards blue eyes were practically boring in to him. He was chewing his lip again, quick and nervous, hands twitching on the book like they wanted to roll it up.

"I-sorry...I get distracted. Let me just. Sorry-that-stupid. Be quiet Jaskier. You're just...stop it. Stop."

"You have a really nice voice."

Jaskiers mouth clicked shut so fast that the witcher thought he'd surely bit off his tongue. Hadn't he ever been told his voice was nice? He'd graduated from an academy? He said he was famous? Surely someone must have told him. There was a rosy blush spreading across the poet's cheeks and ears. Fetching. He made something like a surprised sound and had ducked his head.

"Thank you, dear witcher. That...that means so much." His cheeks were still bright pink.

Eskel saved him from further embarrassment. "So, you were saying about this banquet?"

It was like something had snapped him back and there was the curious emotional whirlwind again. "Oh, oh yes. I asked him to be my bodyguard. I thought he went because we were friends? Now, I think he rather just wanted me to shut up. Anyway. He claimed to lords I was a eunuch...I suppose he saved me from many a beating, but a eunuch, really? I don't want to bore you with the details of things that happened next...but some things happened at the banquet...and he just...disappeared on me...for years. Next time I saw him." He sucks in a breath.

"He was looking for a djinn. I really should have let him be, but I'm a really nosy fuck. I can't help it. I guess I made him too angry...and he was tired...and I'm annoying...and he wished my voice gone...or at least, something like it...Djinns are tricky...I was dying."

Eskel started choking on his drink again. Dying? Jaskier was speaking too fast now, too full of emotion, like this was destroying him.

"Dying. He saved me. There was so much blood. So much choking. And then there was this sorceress." He's clenching the notebook, white knuckled. Eskel's close to telling him that he's about to rip the pages. "She fixed me...I was so happy that he saved me. So relieved. My friend. My best friend...and I wanted to tell him that I-but then he ran in to save her...and the damn building collapsed."

The bard seems like hes caught back in the memory. Eskel nudges him with his foot to bring him back. Jaskier jumps and shakes his head, trying to rid the memory before shooting him a grateful look.

"I thought he was dead...like, I'll have to bury him, or make a pyre, or...or... I don't know...just really dead." Jaskiers' laughing is hollow. "He was fucking the sorceress in the rubble." He says it so bluntly that the witcher flinched.

"I went on a lot of adventures with him...so many...I mean...we were best friends. He wouldn't say so, but I knew it...and then about half a year ago, we had our last adventure." The melancholy is back. Eskel is 99 percent sure that this story is about to end awfully. He's so uncomfortable that he feels it all throughout his body, leeching all his heat.

"It was an adventure, I'll give it that, and it would have made a great song...except I didn't want to go. We only went because of the sorceress. I tried to get him not to go, but the currents of women draw men ever closer."

Eskel nods feebly and Jaskier is chewing his lip for what seems like the 50th time, it looks bruised by now.

"So, there was a sorceress. A dragon. A bard. And him." He takes a fortifying breath. "I tried hard to tell him my feelings. I wanted for him to come to the coast with me. Take a break. Leave the adventure behind. He left me without an answer to go to his sorceress...and then they all left me asleep at camp the next morning to go to the dragon."

He gets quiet and now his hands are clasped tight in front of him on the table. "The dragon told the sorceress something...and she tore my best friend apart...and then she vanished." He's got tears in his eyes and Eskel's hand betrays him the second time today and clasps over his hands. "I tried to comfort him…" There's a quiet hiccough.

"If life could give me one blessing, it would be to take you off my hands." One of Jaskier's hands are gripping the one Eskel gave him like a lifeline, like he's the most important thing Jaskier's ever had. Jaskier is crying quietly across from him. The hand not gripping Eskel's is wiping furiously at his face leaving behind messy tear tracks.

"It is bloody hard to get down a mountain alone…" There's that fake, self-deprecating laugh once more. Eskel hates it. Hates the idea of the expressive, colorful bard tripping his way down the mountain alone.

Jaskier looks up and gives him a watery smile. The witcher can tell that there is about to be a topic change, so he talks faster. "I'm sorry that, that was done to you. It certainly wasn't deserved from what I can see. You deserved better after so long." And somehow the witcher finds himself holding tightly to a loudly sobbing bard.

\--

Somehow after the tears and the holding, Jaskier finds his way back into his own seat, calmer, if a little ashamed for basically mauling this stranger. Eskel looks flustered like he never gets hugged, which the bard probably thinks is the sad truth. Jaskier clears his throat loudly and pats his hair back into something tidy.

"Dear witcher, I am so sorry for that. I should have asked permission." Eskel makes a noise and Jaskier sighs. "You give really good hugs though…" His head shoots up at that and it looks like he's about to reply to what Jaskier has just told him, but then they're being interrupted.

"Aye, Witcher? I've a contract for you " Jaskier turns to look at the farmer that's talking. He looks tired and scared of everything, including the witcher. Actually, he's eying the witcher with unease and serious distaste and isn't that irritating as sin. Before Eskel can even get the words out, Jaskier is talking. He can never seem to shut up. He really wishes it weren't such a damn problem for him.

"What for? Something near the river or your farm? Children being snatched? What's it leaving behind? Has anyone seen anything to describe it?" The farmer looks startled and a little overwhelmed. Eskel looks pensive and like he might object.

Jaskier makes an impatient sound and the farmer jolts and starts talking. Yes, the river. At night. Snatching and drowning the fishermen. They're having to steer clear of it. They look slimy and...green?

"More like drinking men than fishermen…" Jaskier mumbles softly. Eskel huffs a surprised laugh and the bard's ears tinge pink.

"So, drowners. Dear witcher, what do you charge for drowners? Ones on short notice?"

Eskel has the bewildered and confused look on his face once more. Jaskier is a curiosity. A definite curiosity.

"Eskel?" Jaskier asks a little more quietly, nudging against his knee.

"Oh, 300, 500 for a larger pack," he answers somewhat distractedly. How does Jaskier know about all of this? He really shouldn't? It's distracting.

The farmer is frowning and looks like he's about to object. "I'm not going to p-"

"250 upfront, 250 after the job is done. We'll bring proof. No money, no kill." Jaskier states abruptly and the farmer is turning to look at the very human bard. The very human bard that just earlier was sobbing his eyes out brokenly.

"I'm not-"

Jaskier's hands are clasped under his chin, elbows resting on the table, attention fully on Eskel now. He looks bored, falsely so. "Dear witcher, there's a town 2 miles west. They'll likely be more appreciative of your talents there if you like. We could le-"

The farmer is scrambling before Jaskier is even finishing the sentence. All Eskel can think during this exchange is 'Holy hell, did the bard just invite himself along with me? He did? What?' Eskel is silent, eyes wide, still watching. The farmers not even looking at the witcher now, full attention on the bard.

"Look, no, okay, 250 now...250 after, you said?" Jaskier nods and leans back, arms crossing over his chest.

"And a bag of whatever fruit his horse likes best when we bring back the proof. You're on a farm. You can do that. Don't give me that look. You need his help, not the other way around." Jaskier snaps.

Eskel can't tell if the warm feeling he has throughout is for the thoughtfulness toward his horse or the way he's being defended. No one defends witchers. Well, mostly no one. It's another thing to puzzle out.

The farmers nodding furiously and handing over coin before disappearing back into the crowd. Jaskier turns clear, determined blue eyes back toward Eskel and Eskel already knows what's about to happen, so he thinks he's prepared.

"Dear witcher, I am going to put my things in my room. When I come back down, I am going to give you this coin. We are going to go in this adventure. I promise I'll stay far back. I just want-" He's faltering again, but Eskel's already nodding his head.

"I'll be in the stable." What else is he supposed to say to the bard? No you're staying here? No, stop talking? No, you need to leave me alone? None of those are right. He can't do that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Desire - Langston Hughes


	2. Wrap Me Up, Enfold Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I just want awkward, protective, soft boys
> 
> Tell me if the grammar is screwy please

When Jaskier comes back down he's in much more sensible boots and much darker clothing. He's also carrying what look like daggers instead of the lute. It's a little disconcerting to see the shift between bright bard and whatever this is. He seems to have taken on a different sort of confidence too, leaving behind the tumultuous emotion of earlier.

"Are you ready, bardling?" Eskel calls out to him while adjusting the reins on Scorpion again. Jaskier's eyes lock on his horse when he walks up, admiring. He's so different from what Roach had been, majestic though.

"Your horse is lovely, dear witcher. Can I?" Jaskier's hand is on the move before he's even finished the question. Scorpion snorts and moves his head back, but Jaskier keeps his hand out. It takes about 2-3 minutes, but then the stallion leans into the touch and _god_ the smile on Jaskiers' face could light a whole city. He leans into Scorpions' mane before he even realizes what he's doing. When he realizes, he steps back and runs one hand over the strands gently.

"Sorry...His horse didn't like me, didn't really let me touch her. Crotchety thing. I'd have spoiled her. That's okay, he'd probably have hated if I did that. Yours is so nice. Aren't you sweet Darling?" 

Jaskier is still patting and running fingers over Scorpion and Eskel is starting to feel awkwardly jealous of the horse receiving the singer's touch. Scorpion huffs and nudges further into Jaskier and it's a little odd to the witcher, but he kind of understands. It feels like he and his horse may be on the same wavelength about the tactile bard.

"Drowners...How far back do you want me to stay?" Jaskier asks as some sort of weird segue and Eskel is brought back to look at his very serious expression. "I don't want you to get distracted. Your nice, dear witcher. Witchers die when they're distracted...and I can be very distracting if I'm too close."

Eskel nods his head. It's certainly a logical question. All Eskel can think of is that, yes, Jaskier is definitely distracting. "By the horse, when we stop...Wait for a while after it's done." He doesn't need the human to see him still full of potion. Jaskier nods in understanding and Eskel leads out the horse. It's a little confusing when Jaskier starts walking next to and slightly behind him instead of asking to ride with him, but maybe it's just a quirk of his? He won't ask about it right now.

The walk to the river is not quite quiet, humming and the occasional finger drumming from Jaskier that sounds like its following along to Scorpion's hoofbeats. It's weird, not bad weird, and if they weren't about to hunt, he'd probably be able to appreciate it more for what it is. Right now, he's having trouble focusing on it. When they get to the bank, Eskel hops off and hands the reins to Jaskier who bites his lip and watches as Eskel pulls a potion from his kit and steps toward the shore. He spares a moment to think about the bard before chugging the liquid and then going after the drowners.

There's only 4 of them, not a long fight, but he does take a rather gruesome wound to the shoulder and plenty of bruising. It's alright. Jaskier looks a little pinched when he limps his way back up the bank carrying with him a drowner head. He drops the trophy and Jaskier is on him, running his hand lightly over his shoulder, his arms, his chest, waist, legs, like he's cataloging every single part of him and making sure it's there. He goes back to the shoulder and puffs out a breath that sounds vaguely irritated and vaguely like 'Witchers.'

Jaskier is the one that grabs the trophy and attaches it to Scorpions saddle. He's also the one that makes Eskel use him as a bit of a crutch to get in the saddle. Eskel is most decidedly the one that leans over and pulls the very surprised bard up behind him. When they get back to the inn, Jaskier lets Eskel put the stallion up, but he's the one that takes all the bags without batting an eye. Walking back into the inn is a little awkward and Eskel isn't really sure what to do. In the bustle of Jaskier's self-invitation, he'd forgotten his own room and now he's not really focusing on much except for the bard, so-

"A bath, to my room, please. Do you have anymore bandages perhaps?"

Jaskier is talking to the barkeep, but the barkeep is turning to eye Eskel. It's probably the blood, or the guts, or the witcher thing. Most likely the witcher thing. Jaskier is snapping his fingers in front of the man now and the man is looking a little peeved. Eskel would find it amusing, but he really just wants to sit down.

"The sooner you call for a bath and hand me more bandages, the sooner we can retire and leave you be." Jaskier growls. The barkeeps' upper lip twitches in the beginnings of a snarl, before stalking off and Jaskier is back at Eskel's side, letting him lean into his comforting smell and feel. The barkeep comes back with wraps and tells Jaskier bluntly that there will be a bath sent up in 20 minutes. Jaskier sets down a generous tip, because he really isn't that big of an ass, and pulls Eskel along with him. Eskel goes willingly, even though he really doesn't remember agreeing to any of this.

Climbing up the stairs isn't hard, just painful. Jaskier walks slowly either way. When they get into the room, the bard pulls him to the center before setting all his bags in the corner next to the desk. It looks like the bards' things already cover the desk and some of the floor. Jaskier walks back up to him and taps his own chin for barely a moment as though in thought.

"Can I take your swords off...or rather, I know those are important. Do you need help taking them off?" Eskel blinks, blinks again, and shakes his head quickly. The swords are divested quickly and Jaskier sets them gently up against a desk leg. Next he's not even asking before pulling Eskel's armor away and setting it to the side.

Eskel wishes he could blush to get rid of the crawling, shuddery, feeling under his skin. Jaskiers hands are calloused but soft and he works efficiently, humming one of those familiar tavern tunes while he works and by the time Eskel is down to his small clothes the water is being brought up.

Jaskier looks at him, wide-eyed and expectant. Eskel looks back in confusion. Isn't the bard going to take a bath first? "I didn't order a bath for me, dear witcher, please get in. Let me wash your hair...please?"

Eskel is struck a little dumb by this, so does as he's told, pulling off his small clothes and stepping into the hot water like he's in a trance. Jaskier is behind him soon after, dumping something that smells a little spicy into his water and rubbing a cloth down arms and chest. No one has ever done this for him. It's confusing everything in his head a little, which just makes him even more confused than he already was.

"My arms are aching  
Not from excess, but from a lack  
I do not touch

I do not touch you  
Something stops me every time  
I do not touch

I do not touch you  
But I can't stop wanting  
I do not touch

I do not touch you  
I do not touch  
I do not touch I do not touch

But my arms are aching  
I am sore from a lack of reaching  
I do not touch."

It's weird to listen to poetry, especially poetry like that while having someone dig guts and blood from your hair, but Eskel doesn't actually think that Jaskier knows he's murmuring the words, so he doesn't say anything and just listens. It's definitely a sad poem, a poem of longing, Eskel wonders if it's one of the ones the bard said he'd written for his companion. It's nice. It's nice to have that. For a wild moment, the witcher wants Jaskier to write for him.

It's been more than 10 minutes and Eskel is near dozing when Jaskier's face comes into view smiling softly down at him. "I think you're suitably clean now Eskel, no guts. Will you let me clean up your wounds?"

Eskel rubs his eyes with his forefinger and thumb, then shrugs his shoulders. "I'll be all healed in a few hours though?"

Jaskier pats his head, almost like a dog, and Eskel leans back into it before he can stop himself. "I know that. I'd like to anyway, please?" He sounds so hopeful that Eskel can't help but nod his assent and stand up. It's a little thing Jaskier wants and he wants to please the bard. Jaskier makes a noise when the witcher climbs out and averts his eyes while Eskel grabs for his smallclothes and quickly pulls them on. He's not feeling any pain anymore, but he allows Jaskier to sit him on the edge of the bed. 

The bard is gentle while applying chamomile and a poultice for bruising before moving on to grab the wraps from the table. Jaskier places a hand on Eskel's back and wrap bandages around his shoulder and chest firmly. The singer looks content, like this is something he'd been missing doing. Everything smells good. Jaskier smells good. The lotion smells good. The oil from the bath smells good. Eskel feels so tired.

"It's late…" Jaskier says as he pats the bandage and Eskel looks around the room, confused and bleary eyed.

"Give me a second and I'll grab my bed roll, the bed is yours after all," Eskel mumbles sleepily before going to stand up.

Jaskier frowns and pushes him back down. "No."

"No?"

"No."

Eskel waits patiently for an explanation.

"I would like to sleep with you."

Eskel tenses up and then Jaskier seems to think about what he said. The blush starts up immediately, bright red and burning. He chokes on the breath he takes.

"God, no, I meant, sleep...like, cuddle, under blankets, dream..sleep...with clothes...comfy...very tired." He stutters out , hand clenching and unclenching on the bandage, pulling it minutely. Eskel's pretty sure that the man's whole body must be red with how fast his heart is rabbiting.

"You are so wonderful, dear witcher, much kinder than my last companion, but I still long for him." His cheeks are still flaming red and Eskel is still tensed up.

"I don't promise not to steal blankets." Eskel gives as an awkward answer to the not-quite-request from before, trying to calm the bard (trying to calm himself). He chooses to completely bypass the compliment and companion comment, strictly for his own sanity.

Jaskier laughs anxiously and lets go before stepping back. His flush and heartbeat becoming fainter. He turns and removes his daggers, setting them over on the chair softly. "That's alright. Witchers give off plenty of body heat. I'm a pillow hog, so I've been told." He shrugs. The doublet goes next and then the boots. Eskel watches with interest as the clothes come off. Even with the dark outer layers it seems like Jaskier is incapable of completely leaving behind color, his chemise-his very feminine lace chemise-was a baby blue. He looks lovely and smooth. Eskel wishes for different circumstances.

The candles are diminished and the bed dips when Jaskier climbs in with him. He lay on his back next to Eskel in silence for barely a second before huffing in annoyance. Without asking permission, the bard turns and pushes himself under the witchers' arm and places his head on the larger man's chest. 

"I'm sorry, I just need-." The bard wrapped his arm around him like he was trying to protect him or keep him from leaving forever. The witcher puzzles the thought, shrugs, and then wraps his own arm around him. Jaskier was soft. The places where his hair should be coarse were probably softer. He smells like nutmeg and orange blossom. It's nice. Jaskier hums a nonsense tune and within minutes is out, Eskel spends a few more minutes just watching him breath.

Who knew a bossy bard would be able to wrap him around their finger so quickly?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Touch - Will Of Alexander -HelloPoetry
> 
> I plan on making Jask nonhuman in this. It's a favorite trope 
> 
> So...Im debating and could use input
> 
> Dragon (seems to be well liked and the protective instincts)  
> Siren/Mermaid (most popular, for the singing thing and prettiness)  
> Hulder (because different)  
> Shifter (cat) (because it'd be funny to see Geralt react to it and Eskel could get cat snuggles, imagine the chaos and feral behavior)  
> Part Elf/Fae (also seems very popular, beauty and the like)
> 
> Any other ideas for creatures...besides vampires,, yall?


	3. Chasing the Sunset

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Horses and Camping, cause yeah
> 
> I forgot to write his horses name, oops.
> 
> It's Marshmallow /sarcasm

The bard sleeps a long time, much later than Eskel ever would. It's hard not to nudge him awake, but he looks so peaceful that Eskel decides to take in everything around him while waiting instead. Besides, the bard is warm and the weight of his body curled around him feels exceptional. He's sleep mussed and drooling some, but he's beautiful like this. His companion really must have been a damn fool to throw him away.

Looking around the room in the day brings with it a lot more knowledge about the bard than looking at night. For instance, the singer is indeed colorful. There are at least three different colored doublets and 5 bright chemises strewn over the floor. The bard is messy, ink pots and quills, and scraps of notebook papers strewn about the desk. It seems like his absolute necessities are packed though. In case of a fast getaway? Was that something he was used to? 

Jaskier makes a snuffling noise and his grip tightens before going slack. Eskel looks down with a cocked eyebrow and Jaskier smiles a sleepy little smile. 

"Dear witcher," Jaskier rasps fondly, shifting to pat the witcher's face sleepily. "I'm glad you stayed through the night."

Eskel tries hard not to flinch when the bard runs his hand across the scars on him. He really does. Jaskier only just woke up. It would be rude to make him nervous. Sleepy or not. Jaskier catches it and his hand retracts. He extricates himself from Eskel's stunning warmth. Eskel doesn't want him to move. An involuntary shiver moves through him and Eskel frowns deeply.

"I'm sorry for touching without permission." Jaskier feels like maybe he's been doing that a lot over the last day. Apologizing. Screwing up with witchers. Touching without permission.

"You didn't need to get up. They're just...a sore spot. A very bad story." Eskel mumbles, pulling the bard. 

Jaskier bites his lip and looks back at the scars. He hadn't really focused yesterday. He'd been rather focused on himself. Eskel is a little tense, but he does let him look, which Jaskier is grateful for. They look like they might have been painful once, very painful. The look in Eskel's eyes says the story to them is more than just a maudlin tale. Under that though is the look of nervousness, like Jaskier might have something unkind to say or like he might up and leave him. Jaskier raises his fingers, a questioning look on his face and the witcher swallows and nods carefully. Jaskier is featherlight with his touch on them, almost reverent, now that Eskel has given him permission.

"What are scars,  
but proof you’ve  
survived your wounds,  
for wounds  
carry no scars,  
only blood.

What are scars,  
but gold stars for  
lessons presented  
and conquered.

What are scars,  
but evidence you’ve  
overcome life’s  
most difficult obstacles.

What are scars,  
but proof of  
your success,  
leaving you  
not broken  
but wiser."

It's hushed, near mumbled, but Eskel picks it up anyhow. He's never had someone speak that way about his scars. His face feels hot, even if there's no color and before he can stop himself he's wrapping his arms around the poetic bard, pulling him in. There's a weird pressure in his chest and throat, so he hugs tighter in hopes to alleviate it. It doesn't help, but Jaskier hugs him back and sticks his face in his neck. That does help. Eskel breathes him in and nods shakily.

"I-Jaskier-thank you."

Jaskier is nodding back and he's quiet. It seems like he's trying to get as much from this hug as he can too. When he releases himself it's to sit up with a cough and a quick swipe of his eyes.

"So, dear witcher, where is your next destination?"

Eskel pauses. In the insanity of Jaskier the Whirlwind, he'd forgotten that the bard hadn't asked to come with him. Would it be wrong to ask him? They were strangers. Are strangers. As much as two people who just shared a bed could be strangers. He knew hardly anything of Jaskier and Jaskier of him. Yet wasn't that what he'd done with his last friend? Did the witcher even want the bard with him? Would the bard say no? What if this was just a one night comfort thing?

Jaskier seemed to get that he was debating something, no doubt thought it was about where he was to go next, so kindly slid off the bed to give him space. The bard pattered his way over to the clothing strewn about and grabbed a burnt orange one from the pile. The teal chemise came next. The dark brown breeches afterward. By the time Eskel's thoughts were in a row, Jaskier was dressed, doublet undone, with his lute case over his shoulder and things packed away.

The witcher cleared his throat and Jaskier paused in his work to step toward him. "Would you- I don't know if you have before- It's dangerous- You might not even want to," Jaskier stood there patiently waiting for Eskel to get a grip on himself, and wasn't that wonderful. Eskel blew out a long breath. "Would you like to travel the Path with me?"

Jaskier straightened and Eskel thought he might move away and disagree for a moment. He was very wrong when a fast kiss was placed to his cheek. "I would love nothing more, dear witcher. Believe me." The bard looked positively bubbly now and Eskel found himself grinning back at him. Jaskief gave him another tight lingering hug. Eskel could only admire how very tactile a person the bard seemed to be.

\--

A little while later found the bard and witcher saddling up Scorpion, this time with Jaskiers' things added along. Jaskier had given many a pat and scratch on the neck, as well as quite a few thank yous and a pilfered apple from breakfast. He hadn't been kidding about spoiling.

"We should probably go get your payment Eskel. That farmer's going to be a nuisance. Probably a grumpy fuck, now that it's a new day."

Eskel snorts an unexpected laugh and looked down at the bard who was tuning his lute. He looked for all the world like that was all he was focused on. Maybe that was why he walked?

"Every farmer is a grumpy fuck when a witcher comes to talk to them." Eskel grumbles.

"Well, they need to learn manners. You're much nicer than any farmer I've ever met."

"Met many in your travels?"

"Yes, and they're all grumpy...I mean some were justified, because I was quite amorous with a family member or two of theirs...but that's not the point. They've no reason to be grumpy when a service they ask for is being provided for them." Jaskier huffs.

"Some are just...lacking...humility?" The excuse sounded weak, even to the witcher.

"A kick to the knee could teach some humility- Oh, that could make a good lyric-," Jaskier starts up a quick little melody on his lute.

"Hey, ho  
Watch where you go  
Humility's easy to find  
A kick in the knee  
Could teach some humility  
If you aren't so humble and kind"

He strums for a little longer before letting the lute slide back around to rest easy on his back. "Yes? No? Think the farmer would kick me if I sang it to him?" Jaskier asks, quick and bright.

Eskel chuckles heartily. The ditty had actually been somewhat funny to him. "You, Jaskier, are a whirlwind…and yes, I think the farmer would definitely kick you, probably higher up than the knee."

Jaskier makes an offended noise and goes back to looking around the forest, humming to himself. He's a noisy sort. It's nicer than quiet and loneliness, Eskel thinks. A good decision so far.

"So, where are we going after the farmer?" Jaskier asks curiously. "I've always wanted to go to the coast. I still haven't been. Could the Path go that way, maybe?"

He sounds hopeful, but he doesn't sound like he'd be completely sad if they didn't move toward the coast. Eskel ponders on it for about a quarter mile. He doesn't think any of his brothers are working the coastal region right now. So maybe?

"We could move that way? See where Destiny takes us?" In that moment, Jaskier looks like he might hop on Scorpion just to kiss Eskel. So maybe the coast was more important than it seemed.

"I'm glad you believe in Destiny. Maybe you and I were fated to meet." He says it so nonchalantly that Eskel feels like he's got whiplash for the thousandth time, but Jaskiers already off on the side of the road, so the witcher figures that conversation is over.

"My favorite flowers are buttercups," Jaskier is talking once more, twirling a few daisies in his fingers. "It's what my name means-Buttercup-My real name...the old one, yuck." He sticks one of the daisies in Scorpion's mane and then another gently in the gauntlet of Eskel's armour. Eskel looks at it in wonder before watching the last be placed behind Jaskier's ear. He's also got his lute out again, strumming nonsensical chords along it.

"Buttercups are poisonous," is Eskel's helpful reply, but Jaskier beams up at him. Teeth looking somewhat threatening.

"Oh, I know, but looking at them, they look so sweet. I wanted that." Easkel looks at him again.

"Sweet, but deadly." He nods his head once, he could definitely see Jaskier being that. Before Jaskier can shoot a reply back. Eskel hefts him up onto the back of the horse and Jaskier is instinctively holding him around the waist.

"Won't he get tired? I don't want to intrude. He's not mine-" Jaskiers got a list of doubts and suddenly Eskel is rethinking why Jaskier wanted to walk last night and today. It probably had never been his idea. A hand reaches down to squeeze the bards reassuringly.

"He's fine. Scorpion has carried heavier. You weigh practically nothing...and I wouldn't have pulled you up unless I wanted you to ride." Jaskier is chewing his lip again, heartbeat uneasy.

"We could get you a horse in the next town if it would be more of a comfort?" The heartbeat seems to slow and Jaskier nods gently.

"Thank you, dear witcher. I really don't want to impose like that though. I'm alright with just my feet, truly."

Eskel purses his lips and thinks quickly. How to get Jaskier to agree to this without feeling guilty? "We'd save time with another horse. Could load more supplies. Move faster between jobs?"

Jaskier looks puzzled, clocks his head like he thinks it's a trick. It's hardly a white lie, really. A second horse is a brilliant idea. "As long as it isn't too expensive. I don't want to be a drain." Jaskier nods decisively. He goes back to humming and rhe witcher less out a breath.

\--

The retrieval of their coin goes rather well. At least Eskel thinks so. Jaskier thinks that he'd really like to bash the mans' knee in, but that's neither here nor there. They were both right, he was a grumpy fucker. At least Scorpion got apples out of it.

Reaching the next town goes much easier than the farmer and much faster than any traveling Jaskier has done lately. Eskel hadn't been kidding about the horse. Even so, when the first place that they stop is not the inn, but a stable with quite a few different horses, Jaskier might be a little overwhelmed.

Eskel makes it easier on Jaskier by helping him talk to the man that's selling, though the man does keep sending him dirty looks. "How much for one of these mares?" 

Jaskier is not really paying attention, his eyes are on the different horses in front of him. There's one, it's quite pretty, lean, black with a white blanket marking. He might be truly in love with the animal...and he's not even sure if it's a good horse for travel. He looks over at Eskel and the witcher is watching him with a raised eyebrow and a smirk.

"He said some are well traveled and some are-what was it-right bitches. If we can get that one to like you, he'll lower the cost of it. Apparently she's one of the bitches." He's laughing and Jaskier can't help but quirk a smile back before going to grab some apples from the pack. He wants this horse. He's going to get it.

"I told him you were a very determined sort. I don't think he believes me." Eskel adds as an afterthought, before watching as Jaskier unhooks the door to the mares' stable without a trace of fear. 

Jaskier has steady hands and a calm heart beat. Years of trying to get Diach to like him is really coming into play right now. The horse _is_ looking at him like he might be the bringer of death though...so who knows what's about to happen. 

It's interesting to watch the singer work through this. He's gathered something of an audience. It's been 20 minutes and Eskel thinks this is brilliant. Jaskier is brilliant. He's moving slow and steady and Esjel knows he isn't going to spook the mare, because the behavior he's showing isn't the kind that should set her off. It's just a matter of getting her to accept him and letting him bridle her. Jaskier has been talking to the horse. It's more like rambling, about how the horse is a darling, about how _Eskel_ is a darling (which makes everyone look over at him and leaves him shallow breathed), about the sun, and how lovely the summer is starting to look. 

The mare is finally letting him touch her and she's sniffing him. The witcher is so damn proud when Jaskier gets the bridle on that he wants to reach out and hug. Instead he beams and claps. Jaskier grins right back. The horse isn't tamed, but it will be over time. Eskel doesn't tell Jaskier that the horse cost him the whole pay from the last hunt, instead tells him it was 3/4ths of it. He suspects Jaskier knows he's lying anyways.

Walking along to the blacksmith, Jaskier takes ahold of Eskels' hand and doesn't let go. Eskel really doesn't know what to say about how flustered he is, so just squeezes his hand.

\--

Two weeks pass in a blur, riding to the next town, hunting down nekkers (which holy hell, are not fun), and then finally ending up having to camp outside when the coin gets low. Jaskier has taken to brushing down the horses every chance he gets, he's fond of this. He likes actually being able to get close to them.

Now that they're getting to camp, it's interesting to see how Jaskier works outside. He's quick, a flash of color moving about the site, hefting bedrolls and blankets off the horses and scurrying off to grab firewood. He can't sit still and is constantly busy. A whirlwind. It's like he's looking for some sort of approval from this. It makes Eskel a little nervous.

"Busy Bard?"

The singer stops from where he's pulling down bags off the horses and looks over to Eskel.

"Do you want to go set a trap with me?" It's still early enough for that. Sure, the witcher could catch something without the trap, but the nervous energy on Jaskier is stifling and Eskel wants it to stop. Jaskier blinks once, twice, three times and then he's bounding over to him.

"I never learned how to do that- He never taught- Well I guess he wouldn't have had to- Don't need to if you're the hunter," Jaskier grins sheepishly and rubs the back of his neck. "I want to learn. Will you teach me? I'd appreciate it greatly, darling witcher."

Jaskier had taken to calling him 'darling witcher' over the last 2 weeks and Eskel still hasn't wrapped his head fully around it. He has however started giving his own nicknames back. They seem to delight the bard to hear. He tried 'Lark' once, that one didn't go well, in fact it had earned a vehement shake of the head and an almost hiss, but 'Whirlwind' seemed to be okay and Jaskier was definitely that.

Eskel nods and stands up, making the short walk over to one of his packs. He pulls out some metal and walks back over to the bard, handing it to him. "Alright then, and if this doesn't work, we'll head by the stream and I'll try for some fish." Jaskier takes the offered line and walks after the witcher.

The trap is easy to set, a snare, and Jaskier listens in fascination as Eskel explains how to set it up and then disassembles it so that the bard can reassemble it. It's the most useful he's felt today and when Eskel tells him he's done a spectacular job, he tears up a little. Eskel makes a worried face, but Jaskier just shakes his head and smiles. He hopes that the snare works. He wants Eskel as proud of him as he is of the witcher.

It takes 2 hours before Eskel hears a rabbit in the trap. He's been sharpening his blades and listening along as Jaskier explains the ins and outs of chords and lute tuning. It's not the most interesting thing he's ever heard, but Jaskier's slim fingers as they run along the strings and the way he talks about the music...That makes it riveting. When he comes back from getting the rabbit, a good size one, and sits down to skin it, Jaskier has his notebook out. He seems to have been thumbing through the pages, because he's looking down and his fingers have started moving again.

"You belong among the wildflowers  
You belong in a boat out at sea  
Sail away, kill off the hours  
You belong somewhere you feel free

Run away, find you a lover  
Go away somewhere all bright and new  
I have seen no other  
Who compares with you

You belong among the wildflowers  
You belong in a boat out at sea  
You belong with your love on your arm  
You belong somewhere you feel free

Run away, go find a lover  
Run away, let your heart be your guide  
You deserve the deepest of cover  
You belong in that home by and by

You belong among the wildflowers  
You belong somewhere close to me  
Far away from your trouble and worry  
You belong somewhere you feel free  
You belong somewhere you feel free."

The strumming comes to a gentle stop and Jaskier gives him a soft little smile. "I'm trying to write happier things. I don't want to be stuck on him forever."

Eskel's chest aches some and he gives the bard a little smile back. It's getting late now and the rabbit is almost done. "So, a boat, on the sea with a Love?"

Jaskier leans back against a log, fingers plucking at a string. He has a wistful look on his face. "I want to find what pleases me. Adventure pleases me. Sometimes I think a small vacation with someone who gets the real me would too. I want to love freely. I have so much of it and I have to squash it all down so much. It's a true travesty."

Eskel mouth quirks at the side and hands part of the rabbit to Jaskier. The bard sighs and moves over to come sig by him. "What do you think would please you, Eskel?"

Eskel isn't looking at Jaskier and Jaskier doesn't smell like anything but his usual nutmeg and orange, so he's pretty sure it's meant as an innocent question and not an invitation. Still, the thought makes his hands itch to reach and touch. What would please him? The bard pleases him. Music pleases him. Helping pleases him. He doesn't really know.

"I'm not sure. I guess it's something I need to figure out?" The witcher wraps an arm around the bard and pulls him into a half hug while he eats. The singer melts into the contact.

"Can I sleep with you tonight, darling witcher? It's kind of cold." Jaskier isn't looking at him. He's staring ahead at the fire. It isn't really cold either, but Eskel finds himself nodding along anyhow. This'll be the 7th time in 2 weeks that Jaskier has asked. He seems to sleep better cuddled up next to Eskel, which isn't something the witcher will question, because he's pretty sure he does too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Scars - Kristi Kaye - Hello Poetry
> 
> Wildflowers - Tom Petty


	4. Protecting All The Flowers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nekkers. Owwies. Guilt. Hair washing. Oh my.

Jaskier wakes up cold. He knows he went to sleep cuddled up to his witcher, so he's a little bit confused. Sitting up doesn't really give him anymore answers to the confusion though. He's still covered in both their blankets and everything is still in the camp, but where has his witcher gone? It's too early to be up, even by witcher-y standards. Where'd he go?

The bard holds the blankets tight around him and crouches into a stand, walking about to get a better look around. The fire has gotten low and the horses are still asleep. Where's the witcher? Jaskier doesn't want to worry. After all, Pretty much all of Eskel's possessions are here and logically he wouldn't disappear...but well… Jaskier shakes his and puffs out a breath, it's stupid to start thinking like that. Eskel is too kind and trustworthy to hurt him. Jaskier knows this, even after only knowing him for such a short time.

A branch breaks off to the side and Jaskier's head snaps up to look, hand grasping tighter to the blanket, the other gripping a log. The animal that comes out isn't much of anything and Jaskier laughs quietly at how fast his heart is going. It's a fox and it stops to stare. Jaskier's fingers go lax and he nods his head minutely.

"Have you seen my witcher? He seems to have gotten off somewhere." The fox doesn't answer, but the next sound that comes from off to the side is answer enough. Crashing and branch breaking and hollering. Jaskier is standing and tripping back toward the horses before he realizes what's happening.

The first nekker he sees causes a shrill noise to bubble in his throat. Then there are 3 more and wow, this is getting serious. They move fast and in a pack. Jaskier can see Eskel running through the trees behind the last one. And for the record, why the hell did they have to choose this way to run? Eskel shouts at him from the side, something that sounds like 'Watch Out!'. 

When the first nekker locks eyes with him, Jaskier stumble runs. He can't remember the last time he's really seen one of these. They're ugly, gross, and kind of terrifying. It gets closer and Jaskier does his best to hide behind a tree, but sometimes it's hard to be bright in one of these situations, so, he does the first thing he can think of which is shout. Loudly.

"Ger-Esk-ESKEL! ESKEL! NEKKER!" 

The thing is on him, hands clawing into the bard's shoulders sharply. He's probably hyperventilating, actually, the singer knows he's hyperventilating. Honestly, things are getting a little fuzzy around the edges right now and he knows that he's messily crying. Before Jaskier's completely passed out, he hears Eskel shouting, and a sword slashing, and feels the nekker go lax over him. He's pretty sure there's blood all over his face. After that it all goes completely dark.

\--

Waking up is a chore and Jaskier is _so_ not interested in doing it, but there's liquid being pressed to his mouth, and someone murmuring softly, so he forces himself to. He doesn't talk, just opens his eyes slowly and looks about. It's still early, not quite light out and Christ is he hurting. He smells terrible too. Nekker guts no doubt. The person whispering next to him is running a cloth down his face and trying to gently extricate what feel like claws from his arms.

"'Skel?"

The cloth is dropped and the witcher is looking at him, earnest and upset and guilty all in one

"Jaskier. Jask. You're okay. Oh, Melitele."

Why wouldn't he be okay? His witcher protected him from the beasties. Jaskier tries to give him his most unimpressed look. It's dampened by the groan he lets out.

"Wha's my d'mage?"

"Oh." Eskel looks unsettlingly down at Jaskier's shoulders again. "There are claws in your shoulders...Not poisonous, it'll be painful. Your head hit the ground hard too. Uh, a concussion maybe?"

"S'fine. No harm." Jaskier goes to pat Eskel's face reassuringly, missing it completely and landing in his hair. It could almost be funny the betrayed look he gives his arm, except that the whole thing isn't really that funny at all. Eskel shakes his head and pulls the hand back down, setting it back at Jaskier's side.

"I need to pull the rest of it out and I need to bandage it up. I can't numb it until afterward. Your wounds will hurt a lot." Jaskier is nodding along to the witcher's words. He's a little out of it, and that just makes Eskel feel even worse.

"You c'n jus' kiss 'em better aft'r, D'rlin," Jaskier giggles. The giggle turns into a loud groan when the bard jolts forward. Eskel holds one of the claws, swallowing awkwardly.

"Ahem. Yes, well. If you're still awake. I-I will definitely do that," Eskel chokes out before moving on to the next one. "Ready?"

Jaskier tenses up and Eskel pets his hair to get him to calm back down. When he finally relaxes, the witcher pulls sharply. Jaskier chokes on a gasp and Eskel feels himself slowly falling into a hole. Despair. This is not okay. Putting Jaskier in danger is not okay. The next two come out easily and by the time Eskel has moved on to the numbing poultice and bandages, the bard is practically out.

The witcher finishes his work and goes to put everything away. There's a distressed noise behind him and Jaskier is holding out a wobbly arm. "You pr'mised kisses."

Eskel's body heats up and he walks back over to the bard. The feeling of despair is still there in his chest, but now Jaskier is weakly pulling him closer and failing pitifully to get the witcher to lay down and cuddle so the witcher goes. Cuddling makes Jaskier happy. Jaskier deserves happiness, especially since Eskel just fucked up so majorly.

"S'not chur fault 'Skel. Saved me. Sweet." It's a whisper and then the bard is carefully curling himself into the witcher. It doesn't help him feel much better.

\-- 

Jaskier wakes up nearly an entire day later. Eskel looks exhausted when he sees him, like he hasn'tslept at all. Hell, Eskel has hardly even looked him in the eye since he saw Jaskier wake up. It's awkward and uncomfortable and makes Jaskier hurt beyond the physical pain. 

"Eskel?" The witcher is pacing, been pacing about going on 5 minutes. He doesn't even stop when Jaskier calls him out, but he does make a noise of acknowledgment. It's annoying. Jaskier swallows and pulls himself into a better position. He's glad that the wounds are still mostly numb.

"Darling witcher. Stop moving, please." Jaskier's eyebrow raises when Eskel doesn't listen and he lets out an agitated huff.

"Eskel. Sit down" Sharp and to the point. Jaskier feels sore and exhausted and ignored. He never feels ignored with Eskel and he thinks he knows why Eskel is acting like this, but it doesn't make it any more reassuring. Surprisingly, the witcher listens to the order, sitting down hard rigidly across from the bard. The singer waits because he's pretty sure the guilt is about to cause Eskel to burst. It doesn't take long.

"I- Jas- I'm so sorry. The nekkers showed up in the night and I didn't want them to get too close. So, I went to take care of it. The nest was bigger than I figured and then I guess they must have heard you so they ran toward camp and-" Eskel looks miserable. "It's my job to protect you. You're my travel companion. My friend. You got attacked. The Path isn't safe for humans and I just let you come along. You git hurt because of me." 

Jaskier frowns so hard that his eyebrows are pinched together. On the one hand, Eskel knows they're friends, on the other, it almost sounds like he's trying to convince himself to stop letting Jaskier travel with him. That won't do.

"You did rescue me though? Eskel, I got hurt. You won't save me from every monster scratch. I already have tons of scratches. You did save me though."

"But I brought them your way. This is my fault! If I had killed them faster or used a bomb- You got hurt! You could have died! If I couldn't hear your heartbeat I-" Eskel has gone from pained shouting to silence. Jaskier sighs and shuffles over to him.

"I know. I'm sorry. It's not your fault as much as you believe it and I _am_ still alive." He rests up against the witcher's side, but Eskel has taken to not looking at him again.

"You should hate me, Jaskier. You should hate me and want to leave." The words are full of self-loathing and make Jaskier pull Eskel to look at him. A stern look in his eyes. 

"Darling witcher, don't you ever say that again. You are the least hateful person I've ever known...which is saying something, because I have known a lot of people." Jaskier kisses his forehead and though the witcher still looks pitiful, it might not be as bad now.

"Now, as a segue from this, can you help me to the stream so that I can get clean? I'm covered in filth, smell like monster death, and I'm going to have to burn these clothes. I think they're beyond saving." Eskel swallows and nods. Jaskier follows the bob in his throat before letting himself be pulled up and toward the waters' direction.

\--

It's not the warmest place to bathe, but the water is clean. Jaskier feels disgusting now that he's really, really paying attention to it. Dried slime. Guts. Blood. He feels like he might be covered everywhere from his hair down. Eskel seems to be in a similar state. His armor looks cleaner, he probably cleaned it up after Jaskier passed out.

Jaskier did his best to scramble out of his clothing and then waded about a foot in. Eskek stands at the bank, almost looking like a guard dog. It's a little amusing. What should usually be a 5 minute scrub down for Jaskier is taking much longer with the wounds and when he gets to his hair, he frowns and whines pitifully.

"Daaarling, wash my hair for me, please?" The bard is moving toward Eskel and the witcher is sure to keep his eyes locked on the singer's face.

"I can do that, yeah. Is there an oil that you-," Before the question is finished, Jaskier is passing over a bottle that's scented with spice. The smell envelopes Eskel when he opens it, a blanket of the human next to him. Jaskier nudges himself in between Eskel's legs and gets comfortable, waiting.

"You just need a little to make a lather," Jaskier says idly after waiting for a couple moments for Eskel to start. Eskel nods jerkily and cups water, running it through Jaskier's hair. He does it a few times and then adds the oil. The oil lathers up quickly and he scrubs as gently as possibly.

"Your hair is really soft, Whirlwind." A thoughtless compliment and Jaskier is turning bright red underneath him, fuzzy feeling in his chest. Eskel, thankfully, seems too focused on the task he's been given to notice the bard's flush.

The more Eskel works on his hair and gets the chance to really focus on his body, the more he notices that Jaskier has scars. A lot of them. Some seem really to the point, probably from his school days, with how faint they are (canings and the like). Others seem more like monster markings? They aren't new, but they aren't faint. He sees claw marks, and bite marks, and what looks like the beginnings of a stab wound of some kind. Jaskier makes a questioning sound in his throat and Eskel continues moving his hands from where he'd stopped to look. 

He has so many questions and he's not entirely sure that the bard would be honest with him if he tried to ask, so right now he decides to keep them in the back of his mind. The more time with Jaskier the bigger a curiosity he is becoming.

When Jaskier's hair is completely washed out, he turns and gives Eskel a steady smile, a swift kiss to the cheek, and a wink. "You have soft hands, Darling. Thank you."

Jaskier stands with some difficulty and starts making his way back to camp, walking slowly. Dressing in his own shirt is a pain, so he borrows one of Eskels' maroon shirts without permission. It's too big, but it feels better over the bandages. The witcher's mouth is _not_ dry as sand, and he is _not_ imagining Jaskier in other ways, when he sees the bard in it after he comes back from bathing. Not at all.

When they're both done dressing and relaxed back around the fire, Jaskier speaks up. "There's a midsummer festival that's supposed to be in the next town. We should take a break while these heal." He taps on the bandages near his shoulders. Eskel's eyes are drawn to the chest hair peeking out of the loose collar.

He deflates at Jaskier's words though. "I'd scare people if I showed up during their celebrations. No one wants a witcher joining in." The bard looks like a petulant child.

"Well, you're not going for the other humans. You're going for your bard." It's overly decisive and snappy, but not at him, more at everyone else. Eskel's stuck on Jaskier referring to himself the witcher's bard

"I-Okay. You could play for them. I'm sure they'd love your music. It's beautiful. Think we could make it there tonight?"

Jaskier drums his fingers on his crossed legs and purses his lips up. "We should be? It's hardly night yet. I bet we could get a room. Those nekkers were probably a problem for them."

Eskel hadn't even been thinking of the nekkers like that. Now though, he's looking over at the pile of corpses kept to one side of camp. "Maybe? I'll pack some up to take."

"Hellebore could carry it if there's already too much on Scorpion?" Jaskier looks over to the horses. The singer's horse, Hellebore, is staring back at them both looking vaguely annoyed. Scorpion looks ready to start moving. He was never good with staying in one place for too long.

"Alright, well, let's start packing."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> are there tropes/headcanons you guys like? I'm always interested in hearing about more.
> 
> I'm bored enough during the day that I kind of want to make a pinterest board for this lol
> 
> Jaskier's horse is named Hellebore.  
> Poisonous flower, comes in black, part of the buttercup family


	5. I Think It's Unfair, Your Situation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes angst is nice? Also, yay, characters discussing their backgrounds with each other :)
> 
> Tell me if my grammars off?
> 
> Have you heard Be Nice To Me by The Front Bottoms? It sounds a little weird, but it makes me think of Jas and Geralt.

The ride to the next town is slow going and Jaskier has to stop to stretch and rub feeling into his arms a few times. Eskel watches him with eagle eyes, but Jaskier doesn't act like he's hurting, only like he's mildly discomforted. The witcher still feels ashamed for the fact that Jaskier has to be uncomfortable at all right now. The bard hasn't picked up his lute throughout the trip, but he has been keeping a steady stream of words, mostly about the scenery in the dimming sunlight. It's comforting at least.

"The governess at our estate used to say dandelions were for good luck and that blowing on them would grant a wish. They could lead to true love if you blew all the little fuzz off." He was twirling one around, staring at it a little nostalgically. "She didn't last very long after I told father what she said. Dandelions are weeds you know." The witcher watches the singer blow the dandelion seeds off its head and then place the stem in his pocket. His father is a dick.

"They're durable and they always come back no matter what tries to take them down, Jaskier. They look like the sun, not a weed," Eskel smiles faintly. "You look like a dandelion."

"I could be a dandelion. My father would see it fitting if I was a weed, but you make it sound nice. You're a dandelion." He pulls more of the dandelions up and places them in his pocket, slowly starting to weave a few into the beginnings of a chain. Eskel grabs Hellebore's reins for him, refusing to smile at his compliment being flipped back on him.

"Your father? You've mentioned him before, I think, and you said that you picked your name?"

Jaskier cocks his head to look up at Eskel. "I did. What do you want to know?" He sounds halfway between wanting to talk and shutting down. It's a weird combination to hear and weirder still that Eskel can even understand what that sounds like in the singers tone.

"Where are you from, Whirlwind? You said a governess. Nobility are the only ones I've ever seen with those." Eskel's eyes are trained on the bard. Jaskier's fingers are looping stems through each other expertly. His fingers are starting to turn green.

"Kerack, well, there abouts." The singer purses his lips. "Julian Alfred Pankratz, Viscount de Lettenhove. It's a mouthful. I'm not even certain I _am_ a viscount anymore? My father might have disowned me." Eskel's brows shoot into his hairline.

"Disown you? Why would he do that?"

Jaskier mumbles something uncomfortably and looks off to the side. Eskel can feel the unease coming off him in waves. "Jas, you don't need to tell me. I'm just curious about you."

"I stole a horse." Jaskier mumbles, dandelion chain wavering in his hands.

"That would be a ridiculous reason to disown someone like you." Eskel huffs out.

"He might have found me in the stables with a very distant male cousin a couple days before that." Jaskier looks like he wants to crawl out of his skin. Eskel cant tell if its for the fact that he was caught, the fact it was a stable, or the fact it was a cousin. Either way, he laughs. He immediately feels apologetic when Jaskier shoots him a look.

"Sorry, sorry. When we were in Kaer Moren, I can't tell you how many times boys would end up caught together. We were all "brothers" in a sense. Geralt and I-You've probably heard about him-We had to run the The Killer 3 times back-to-back after being caught together when we were supposed to be doing the stables."

Eskel thinks that'll get a laugh out of him, instead Jaskier is white as a sheet and his heart is rabbiting in his chest. It's worrisome. The witcher doesn't know what he said to cause it. Maybe his wounds are acting up. As suddenly as it started, it ends, and Jaskier is walking over to him.

"Here, lean down," Jaskier says softly and Eskel frowns but leans off the side of Scorpion until they're face-to-face. Jaskier raises his arms and then the dandelion chain (now a necklace) is being placed over his head and patted down by his neck. It's pretty and makes Eskel feel warm.

"Tell me more about your childhood, darling witcher?" Jaskier smiles unsteady.

Eskel sits back up and makes a face. "Are you sure Little Sparrow? You look really uncomfortable."

A weak smile and Jaskier steps back toward his horse. "I told you some of my history. I'd like to hear some of yours. I know witchers are all secrets."

Eskel looks doubtful, but Jaskier is up in his saddle already moving along, so he lets out a breath and starts talking. "I don't remember how I got to the witchers." He starts slowly, trying to put thoughts in order. Jaskier is watching closely, rapt attention in his eyes.

"The witchers are- were- my family. There aren't many left from my school. When we went through training, God, we started with what felt like hundreds." Jaskier's nodding along. "We went through a lot of training from really early on. There was still time for playing at the beginning...and we had regular courses too."

Jaskier's eyebrows furrow. "So, like an overextensive noble sons training?" He's trying to correlate the two in his head. Its not working for how he imagined witcher childhood.

"At the very beginning, maybe?" Eskel gives a barely there smile. "The training got harder the older we got and the lessons became neay nonexistent. Playtime became nothing. When I turned about 11, we faced the first trial." Jaskier makes a surprised noise.

"So soon?" Jaskier sounds shocked. "When I was 11 I was stealing my first horse, Pegasus, to try and get away from my tutors. I got sent to the temple for it."

Eskel hums in acknowledgment. "It was less a trial and more a...preparation for the trials? The actual trials came through the next couple of years. They were deadly." Jaskier doesn't say anything when the witcher doesn't go into detail. He's not sure he wants to really know the details to that.

"We lost 3/4th of our class during the trials and then 1/3rd when we all finally went out on our Paths. There weren't many classes after ours." Eskel's tone goes a little numb, remembering. "Maybe you'll meet one of my brothers one day? He's an ass, but he means well." Jaskier sucks in a breath and Eskel stops his horse.

"Oh, don't be worried Whirlwind, Lambert wouldn't try to fight you if you challenged him...maybe," Eskel teases.

Jaskier shakes himself out and grins. "Lambert is testy?"

"Lambert is a cranky fuck that doesn't know when to back down from a fight. He's a brat." Eskel looks and sounds so fond that it leaves Jaskier with that fuzzy feeling again. It helps that they aren't talking about Geralt anymore.

"Now, you said you stole a horse to _get away_ from your _tutors_." Jaskier turns red and looks positively affronted.

"I was _11_ and father wanted me to go through ancestry, except my ancestry wasn't even mentioned. Why would I want to learn about something that doesn't mention me?" Jaskier is bristling at the very idea.

"So, you aren't entirely related to his family?" It's the most delicate way that Eskel can put the question.

"A bastard, yes, but a male one. Better than his wife did, so I got to stay there." Jaskier crosses his arms huffily. "I got caned so bad by my asshole uncle when I mentioned it that I never even thought to ask about my mother. She must have been a lovely sort-if unfortunate."

Eskel sighs softly. "I'm sorry, Jaskier."

"It's alright- It's not- But it's been years and years. I got my degrees and I'm a professor. I got to travel the continent and now I travel with you. I learned what I am." His smile seems sharp.

Eskel wants to come up with a reply, but Jaskier is pawing at his shoulders again and they've finally entered the edge of town.

\--

It's really too loud in this town. There are too many people, like they've tried to stuff three towns into this one for the festival. There are too many smells. Too much input. It's like fighting too many monsters at once. The townspeople seem so focused on their festivities that they haven't noticed the witcher and his bard though, so at least there's that.

It's late and Eskel should be shocked that they're all still awake, but they have a bonfire and what looks like an unending amount of ale and food. These people will be up for ages yet. Jaskier rubs at his arm again when they reach one of the outer inns. It's a bit of a long shot that they'll get a room here, but it is worth a shot.

Jaskier slides off his horse and hands the reins over to Eskel with a cheerful performer smile in place. "I sincerely hope they haven't booked up yet." He says pleasantly.

Jaskier steps into the inns main room with a bounce in his step and up to the desk with the smile still in place. "Any rooms, my good sir?"

The bulky man behind the bar is frowning deeply. He looks exhausted and not even in the 'Making lots of money, very, very, busy' way. "Any room you want if you can handle the problem," he grumbles out. It's sarcastic and dreary. There's a festival going on. The man shouldn't sound like that.

"Dear sir, what problem might that be?" Jaskier is still all pleasant smiles.

"A shifter roams the halls. Territorial fucker won't let anyone check in and stay. I'm losing money. You'd be better off camping during the festival."

Jaskier freezes, biting at his bottom lip. "What," He coughs to clear his throat, "What sort of shifter?" Jaskier eyes shift to the front door, the innkeeper, and the stairs.

"Lizard of some kind, maybe? Didn't get a good look. I've been sleeping at the neighbors."

Jaskier sighs deeply. They weren't going to find a room elsewhere and undoubtedly this would probably suck. "Okay, it'll be gone by the morning. Free meal and board for my companion and I the rest of our stay here when it's removed." Jaskier says point-blank.

The man blink, blinks again. "How long you staying. You know you're just a lad right?"

"A week at most, do we have a deal, or shall I leave you to your beast?" Jaskier snaps.

The other man sighs and shakes his head. "One week, one night to kill it. Luck to you." The man is out the door and Jaskier is left to prepare for what he's going to do.

God this is going to suck.

\--

Eskel waits outside for a solid 20 minutes before he gets the feeling that he should enter the inn and check on Jaskier. The feeling is cemented when what is obviously the innkeeper steps out...without the bard. The witcher makes his way over, caution in his step, but when he gets to him, the innkeeper seems relieved? 

"Is that your bard, just come in? Oh he's a clever one. Bringing a witcher to deal with my problem. Didn't even tell me it was a witcher that'd be dealing with it. Made it sound like the boy would be doing it alone." The man is rambling, amused and exasperated. Eskel feels more and more alarmed as he talks.

"Problem? What sort of problem?" What has the bard gone and gotten himself into now?

"The shifter. Didn't that boy tell you? Disrespectful not giving details before you go and handle the beast."

Eskel sucks in a harsh breath and pushes past the man and into the building. Stupid, reckless bard. Does he not fear death? Perfectly good witcher and he goes after the shifter alone. Humans. Eskel isn't sure how he's going to begin broaching this subject with the singer.

There is noise coming from the second floor and Eskel's medallion hums lowly against his chest. It sounds like a scuffle, but there's no screaming yet, so maybe his bardling managed to hide away from it? The witcher unsheathes his silver sword and tip toes up the last of the stairs. Some of the rooms seem to be thrown about haphazardly, others are untouched. The noises are coming from the far room. Door ajar, Eskel steps close and peers in to assess the situation and it _is_ a situation.

The shifter is small bodied, half shifted between human and feline. Claws and fangs glinting, bristling ears and tail twitching. It's crouched in a predatory stance looking over at a desk. Eskel goes to take another step into the room when the shifter in front of him scents the air and snaps to attention. His head turns quickly and his eyes lock on to Eskel. The witcher stops dead in his tracks. The shifter makes what would be a whining sound if it were any other sort of animal and shuffles back toward the far corner. He looks scared? It makes sense for a monster to be scared of him, but the fact that this monster is scared of Eskel isn't sitting right. For one, Eskel still hasn't found the bard, for two, the shifter has such a familiar smell that it's fairly disconcerting.

The witcher isn't given much chance to muse on the thoughts when the hissing starts up to his side. The shifter in the corner hisses and its hackles rise, claws flexing in front of him. The hissing grows louder and Eskel readies his sword. The next think he knows is that he's flat on his back and there's another shifter on top of him. Taller, scalier, with sharper teeth. It won't stop hissing and scenting the air with its stupid, disgusting tongue. Eskel can't keep his attention on the cat in the corner and the reptile in front of him, so he focuses on the immediate problem. He'll have to find Jaskier after all this is over.

The reptile bites at him and the cat snarls from where he's stood back. Eskel slices into its side and the reptile rolls off of the witcher, grasping at the wound and glaring with murder in his eyes. Eskel readies to stab again, intent on finishing this before it goes further. Before he gets the chance to do so he's struck dumb watching the small shifter bodily tackle the reptile, claws fully out and tearing viciously into the skin it reaches. He's snarling, growling, and hissing. He's using small fangs and sharp teeth to tear wounds where he can and the reptile is writhing, crying, trying desperately to pull the cat off and inflict its own damage at the same time. The cat is slowly being covered in its own wounds. In theory, this would be the time that Eskel could stab them both through and be done with it, but then the scene really catches up to him and there's a dawning horror. The cat shifters' blood (and there's a lot of it) smells almost exactly like Jaskiers'.

The cat- Jaskier- for Eskel is sure that is who it is, is tearing into the reptile's throat, mauling his teeth as far in as possible and clamping on the arteries there. His face is a bloody mess. It would be terrifying for Eskel to see, if he were human. Even when the reptile is dead, bleeding out all over the floor, Jaskier seems lost to himself, licking his claws and fingers off, wiping as best he can at his face and getting the blood there. He looks ready to try tearing pieces off the dead shifter, to eat,, or to hide away,, when Eskel makes a questioning sound in the back of his throat.

Jaskier jumps in shock, the fur covering parts of him bristles, and he turns to look back at the witcher, eyes bright and shocked. Eskel goss to say something, but before he can the bard steps back and places his hands over his face. Slowly the fur that had grown out seems to recede back into his skin and his claws retract, leaving slightly bloody nails behind. The ears slowly disappear beneath fur that is changing back into the soft brown hair Jaskier normally sports. When his hands come back down, his eyes are no longer cat-like, but big, wet, and cornflower blue. His mouth is bloody and Eskel can't figure out if it's from the reptile or his fangs retracting back into his gums. The tail seems to be the last thing that goes, though he isn't watching it. The witcher is watching the bard.

"So…"

"I'm sorry."

They speak at the same time. 

Eskel scuffs his boot. Ill at ease. Jaskier is a monster. Jaskier has been traveling with him for a while now and known the entire time that he's a monster? Jaskier got him to care about the bard, knowing that he's a monster? Jaskier let him believe that he was human. Jaskier tore apart that other shifter like nothing. He was playing with it at the end like it was food. The bard tore him up for threatening Eskel. It was captivatingly attractive in the most off putting of ways possible. The swirling thoughts are all making him a little sick.

Eskel steps backward toward the door, grunting. Jaskier looks like he's going to collapse in a puddle of sorrow.

"I'm sorry. Eskel, I'm sorry." Jaskier is pulling in on himself, not even looking up now. 

Eskel wants to go to him and hug him, hold him, check his injuries. Instead he nods his head.

"I, just, give me an hour or two? Whirlwind. I need to...to process this? I won't disappear. Everything will stay here so you'll believe me."

Jaskier makes the most pathetic whining noise possible to humankind low in his throat and hunches even further. It doesn't sound like he really believes Eskel right now, but Eskel really can't do this. He sighs and pulls off his swords, setting them on the floor a few feet from Jaskier so that the bard doesn't get scared.

"I'm sorry, Eskel." Fuck, this is heartbreaking, but Eskel needs to understand and he can't think while looking at Jaskier right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The randomizer has spoken.  
> 1.Shifter  
> 2.Dragon  
> 3.Fae  
> So Drama!bae is gonna be a cat shifter :) Feral Jaskier will appear more often.
> 
> I picked some cats, but I liked 3 different ones a lot? Sand Cat, Margay, Ocelot. 
> 
> Sand Cat -Teeny Tiny wild cat, not territorial and will share burrows, don't socialize with other cats, very fierce, they look like kittens. No really, It's literally so adorable.  
> Ocelot - Medium size wild cat, solitary, Aggressive, but beautiful. Nothing says his attitude wouldn't change in his other form though?  
> Margay - Smaller size wild cat, solitary, climbers, multiple noises, great hunters, look a lot like ocelots
> 
> Any other cat ideas?
> 
> I might do some ojeshots with the other creatures I thought about if I feel up to it.


	6. Overwhelming Noise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Am I terrified? Am I angry? Am I turned on? Did I fuck up? I fucked up. - Eskel
> 
> I fucked up. - Jaskier
> 
> Guys, come on.

Eskel leaves the bard and the bloody inn. Leaves the inn and the bloody town. Leaves the town and the bloody festival. By the time he has stopped it's fully night and he's been walking for nearly an hour. He feels like his head should be full of thoughts, but right now it's gone blessedly empty, beside the one thought of 'Jaskier isn't human'. He can't seem to shut that one off though, so for now he's stuck with it. The witcher mechanically goes about gathering wood for a fire, but doesn't bother with lighting it. He's emotionally fried up. Something he thought he was incapable of. Jaskier isn't human. His thought process jumpstarts.

Eskel grits his teeth, fingers of one hand clenching at his side like they're holding an imaginary version of his sword. 

Jaskier isn't human. 

_You're a dandelion._

Jaskier isn't human. 

_Scars...Gold Stars.._

Jaskier isn't human.

_Darling Witcher._

Jaskier isn't human.

_I've learned what I am._

It feels acidic. It feels like betrayal. It feels overwhelming. Eskel's fingers clench again and he closes his eyes tight. Jaskier hunched far back in a corner. Jaskier snarling. Jaskier with fangs and mouth dripping in blood. Eyes golden, reflecting green. Claws sharp, ready to tear. Protecting him for a change. Feral. Eskel lurches forward, eyes blinking open rapidly. The feeling in his stomach is somewhere between heat and rolling bile. It's not helping the confusion.

He feels betrayed. Jaskier should have told him. His Whirlwind should have said something. Did he not trust him? Did he think Eskel would cut him down? Would he have? Eskel's fingers clench again and his teeth grind together. He jumps up and paces about. At least he understands why the bard has a tendency for overprotectiveness and a lack of fear to rival another witcher. It explains the cuddling and the occasional odd sounds that come from him. The odd comment made in passing about age. Jaskier wasn't so subtle and Eskel feels dumb for just now catching on.

He's angry at himself for it and without thinking his arm swings out, fist colliding with a nearby tree, cracking it. The bloody knuckles he gets for his trouble help to clear his mind some. He punches again when he thinks of Jaskier right after he snapped out of his bloodlust, the fear of rejection on him. The near acceptance that Eskel could probably leave. Eskel growls furiously. How could Jaskier even think such a thing. Did his last friend do that or does he think so lowly of the witcher? Eskel punches the tree again and then kicks it for good measure.

The witcher spares a moment to think of Jaskiers' mother. He said he was a bastard. Was his mom a shifter too. Lovely-if unfortunate. Jaskiers' words. Did he know that he had always been one? Another crack to the tree and it wavers ominously. Jaskier had been tricking him. Lying by omission was still lying.

Did he tell him other lies? Eskel's fingers clench once more. If he could cry his eyes would definitely be tearing up. They already feel so itchy. He hasn't felt this betrayed since the first trial, which says so much. It hurts more because he really cares for the bard. His stupid heart picks up to human speeds.

Another kick to the tree and it falls to the forest floor with a loud boom. Eskel doesn't hear it. He's focused on his thoughts. A careless igni is thrown at the fire and he stalks to the stream to wash the remnants of blood and sweat from his body. Blood. Jaskier. Jaskier bloody and relishing in it. How many times had the bard done that? Had he done it when Eskel had been off on a hunt? Had he ever killed a human? Jaskier covered in his own wounds. How many of the scars he had seen were from Jaskier's own fights? Did he patch himself up alone? With teeth and claws like those, no wonder he didn't use anything other than daggers.

Eskel finishes in the stream, drenching his head and imagining the bards' twitching ears and tail. Those don't make him angry. They cause a different feeling, one he's not up to analyzing right now. He sets a trap and catches a small rabbit, hardly cooking it, before eating it in a few bites. He's not any closer to getting through his emotions, but he is too exhausted right now to handle it all so he lays down and soon falls asleep.

\--

The witcher dreams of sharp teeth and claws. A face with a patterned mask surrounding deep golden eyes. Ears that swish inviting him in. Blood, so much blood. Enticing him. The mouth full of fangs trills warmly at him and the eyes seen to glimmer. A rough tongue sliding up his neck. The claws skitter up one of his bare arms and a tail is wrapping around a wrist. Eskel's heart is beating rapidly and his body is burning so hot under his clothing. He wants them off. Wants to feel the body on top of him. The fangs grow sharper and the pupils contract. There's a cruel twist to their look now.

"You left me by myself."

His vocal chords and arteries are being torn from his throat in a spray of blood. The patterned face is soaked in blood, the fangs are chewing on his veins, the claws are biting into his skin. He's not dead though.

"Sweet darling witcher."

Eskel wakes up gasping for breath in a cold sweat. His hands go to his throat, feeling to make sure everything is still there. His hands are shaking when he looks down. His hands have claws and he can feel fangs crowding his mouth now, tastes blood.

He jolts awake for the second time, turning and retching, but nothing comes up. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck."

Eskel flops back and breathes in through his nose and out through his mouth until his heart starts to slow. He hasn't had a dream do that to him since his disaster of a child surprise. What does he do? This is so far past overwhelming, entering into a new realm all on its own. Jaskier would know how to help, except Jaskier is the root of the problem.

Eskel spends the rest of the day and the next night in the woods.

\--

Jaskier sits, and he sits, and he sits. He sits until his legs are numb and then sits well past that point. The remains of the body next to him are starting to smell, badly, but he ignores it, numb and useless. He's vaguely aware that the innkeeper has reentered the establishment and even more vaguely aware that he kindly offers up a bath. Jaskier doesn't answer. Doesn't nod. Doesn't shake his head no. Just sits.

It's well into the night when it starts happening. His body starts shifting again, rearranging, letting out claws, and fangs, and ears, and a tail. Eskel left him here. Eskel. Left. Him. Here. He saw his other form and _he left_. The bard shifts more, a nose, and eyes, and a mouth to go with his fangs. The bone structure cracks into place afterwards. It's been some time since he's been like this. He doesn't need to think too deeply in this form, but the thoughts are invading anyway.

_You have a really nice voice._

I won't disappear.

_Sweet, but deadly._

I won't disappear.

_My friend._

I won't disappear.

_Whirlwind._

It's been much longer than 2 hours. The blood is dry and flaking. It itches. He left his swords. He'd at least come back for those right? Jaskier prowls over to them and places a palm against the silver. It burns and the fleshy part of his paw sticks to it. His paw peels. _Monster_. Fitting. He spares a few moments thinking about what it would be like to spear himself on it, but if Eskel did come back for the swords and saw him-his corpse. He can't do that to him. He'd have to clean it off.

Jaskier whines and limps backward before shifting back into his human self, gathering clothing on his way out the door. It's morning. The innkeeper eyes him warily, but agrees to send up a bath as thanks for the beast-slaying. Jaskier is too mentally exhausted for the praise. When the water comes to one of the random rooms that the man picks for him, the bard sits on the bed and waits for it to turn freezing. He wants to feel numb, numb, numb. Chase his inner turmoil away. Keep the bubbling nausea at bay. The swords are in the corner of the room now, next to his daggers. Jaskier eyes them for a second before climbing into the tub and setting about scrubbing himself raw. The blood needs to disappear. He wants to disappear.

Jaskier reopens scabs and agitates the wounds on his shoulders while he scrubs, but the water is doing what he wanted it to. For now at least. Eskel might not be coming back. He might get abandoned by his new friend. Lose another one right after losing Geralt. This time it really will be his fault. He understands why he disappeared. He did just drop this on him out of nowhere. He meant to ease him in slowly, not surprise him. Eskel isn't a surprise person. He didn't want to overwhelm him. Eskel needs to process...but, Jaskier is a monster.

Jaskier doesn't bother with the bleeding or his clothes or the blanket when he gets out. He curls up on the bed in the tightest ball he can get into in this form. If Eskel comes back, Jaskier will do his best not to slip into his shifted form. He will not let the witcher disappear again.

When he goes to sleep, he dreams of a mountain on fire, screams, being told it'd be a blessing to have him gone, falling over the edge and being caught by a too warm hand. Being told that he won't be left and then being let go of in the next instant, falling _down, down, down_ until he's hitting jagged rocks and his father is overhead telling him he's a fucking disappointment.

When he wakes up it's nighttime again. Eskel still isn't back. The bard lays back down in his tight ball and cries himself into even more fitful dreams, a ball of dread filling up the whole of his body.

\--

Eskel spends 2 days in the woods outside of town. He can faintly hear the festival still going on and it's abnormally funny, in the screwed up way, that people should feel so happy while his world is still falling apart. He hasn't eaten much since the first night and he meditated instead of sleeping last night. The thought of more sexually-charged nightmares was too much to handle.

He spends a lot of the second day meditating really, and when that stops working he tries to figure out what he's feeling again.

He's walked, probably, the entire perimeter of the town while thinking. If he sits, he starts to freak out again.

He's already come to the realization that Jaskier probably has two forms.

That the bard probably isn't terribly old- with how he talks about his life- just a child really in the grand scheme of a shifters' lifespan.

That Jaskier probably isn't even aware of all his abilities.

He also has come to the very guilty realization that while Jaskier was keeping secrets, maybe out of fear, Eskel had been too.

He starts to feel sick again. It's been a lot longer than he promised to stay away,, but he's still confused about everything..

Jaskier isn't human, but he's kind.

He isn't human, but he is protective of friends.

He isn't human, but he has the humor of one.

He isn't human, yet Eskel's never seen the bard threaten humans like a monster would?

He's not human, but he is half.

Eskel sits down roughly. He feels a little like the trust he had built up with the bard has crumbled...not completely, but that it has.

Would they be able to fix it when he went back? Eskel lurches back to standing. He's going back. He knows for sure he's going back. He's still confused, and overwhelmed, and in over his head. His elder witchers would have taken a strap to him for not just killing the monster. He needs to get back to Jaskier and they can deal with this mess together.

He makes the unsteady trek back to the inn and stops to check on the horses when he gets there. He removes the now rotten nekker head from Hellebore and brushes the two down, before stopping when he realizes he's just trying to stall. This is going to be the most uncomfortable reunion of 2 people, ever. He's sure of that.

Eskel swallows his nerves, steals himself and enters the inn.

"Your friend is in the second room on the right. Haven't seen him since he came down for a bath though. Looked kind of pitiful. There's been loud noise,, but I didn't want to bother him. Thank you for killing the beast "

Eskel grimaces and nods his head, all the while thinking, 'I didn't kill it'.

The walk up to the room is slow. He's nervous of what he'll find. He'd promised 2 hours. He'd disappeared. He'd left Jaskier looking like a husk of himself. Eskel frowns. Maybe it won't be bad?

\--

It's bad. The room looks like its been shredded and the bath tub looks like it might have been upended. Jaskier's daggers are shoved deeply into the wood of the wall and his clothing can't even be called clothing anymore. There's blood nearly everywhere. The only thing that doesn't look messed with are his own swords and even then, the silver one has skin burnt to it. Eskel hisses and looks around for the bard to make sure he's not hurt more.

Eskel should have come back sooner. What if the bard tried to kill himself? Was that something he was capable of? The witcher doesn't think he knows what Jaskier is capable of anymore. The witcher is careful picking through everything. The blood looks like its from wounds self-inflicted, probably from his claws, if the drapes are anything to go by...maybe his fangs. Could Jaskier mortally wound himself with his own body?

Eskel makes his way over to the bed and makes an inhuman noise in the back of his throat at what he sees. If he was bloody with the reptile, now is so much worse. He can't even smell the nutmeg on him right now. The bard is out cold, curled tight in a ball, less than half shifted, fluffy tail wrapped protectively around his lower body and large triangular ears twitching atop his head. The markings that run down the center of his face look even darker because of the blood, and the black framing his eyes like a mask isn't hiding the tear tracks.

Eskel feels sick and sicker still when he sees the mans' hand. Everything in the room freezes. The flesh on his sword, burnt to it. Jaskiers' hand, blistered, raw, bleeding still. The witcher's sword hurt the bard. Was it an accident? But the bard knows what silver does to monsters. Scratch that, to non-humans. Jaskier is not a monster. Never a monster, not to the witcher. Eskel goes to brush a finger over the wound and _that_ is the moment the singer chooses to wake up.

He wakes up fast and alarmed, lunging at Eskel with wild eyes and a fast heart, snarling, claws splitting from his fingers with barely a thought. Eskel goes down with a loud crash and refuses to make a sound when the claws catch at his throat sharply.

It takes Jaskier a few minutes for the fog of nightmares to lift and that's when he realizes that Eskel is under him. That Eskel is under him and his claws are drawing blood at his neck. Jaskier kicks himself backward with a shrill sound, trips over his tail and shifts back all in the same moment.

"I'm so sorry. Eskel. You came back. I'm so sorry. Please- It won't happen again- I'm sorry."

Eskel watches him until Jaskier quiets back down. His own heart rate is up. He's warm. This is awkward as fuck. Jaskier is hurt. "Can I see your hand, Whirlwind?"

Jaskier's mouth drops in a rather unattractive impression of a fish. "My-my hand? What? Eskel? Are you okay?"

Eskek huffs. His wounds are already healing. Why is Jaskier always like this? Sacrificing his own comfort and health for others. "Jaskier. Your hand. It's going to get infected. Let me help...and then-and then we need to talk, okay?"

Jaskier swallows hard and barely nods his head. He shuffles back toward Eskel and holds out the damaged hand. "I won't be playing lute for a while, will I?" His joke falls flat.

Eskel raises a brow and shakes his head in the negative. "Did you do this to yourself?" He doesn't sound accusatory, just tired and guilty.

Jaskier goes to pull his hand back to shield it, but Eskel holds it firmly. "...I did. I needed-I don't know what I needed." Jaskier looks ashamedly off to the side and Eskel's eyes widen. He understands what Jaskier wanted and he feels horrible.

"Whirlwind," It's sad, "You are a monster."

Jaskier flinches hard and tries to curl into himself. Eskel feels terrible.

"You are, but you're still My Jaskier. Let's patch this and get you a new bath." He looks around. "And a new room." Eskel goes to stand and Jaskier desperately pulls him back down.

"You're not going to leave me by myself again right?" He sounds scared and Eskel's heart lurches.

"Im just getting a new room, clothes, and a bath. 20 minutes, Whirlwind."

Jaskier lets him go with difficulty and watches him leave the room, resigned, not expecting him to come back.

\--

Eskel makes it back in 15 minutes, after telling the innkeeper a rather expert lie about there being a second beast that the bard killed in his room. The innkeeper didn't question it when the witcher handed him extra coin. A bath was asked for and Eskel grabbed their bags, running back up to the bard.

Jaskier was right where he left him, staring into space. He seems shocked to notice Eskel back. The witcher doesn't know if he should feel hurt.

"I told the innkeeper that you killed another beast for him and that, that is why this room is a mess. He gave us a new room across the hall."

Jaskier nods and stands on wobbly legs. Eskel tries to stay focused on his bloody face. He'd forgotten how naked the bard was, but seeing it helps catalogue the injuries. He'd done a number on himself. Bite marks and claw marks and what might be a knife slice? Eskel winces and holds a cloak out for him. Jaskier takes it appreciatively.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I might do a mix of different cats, just to get the parts I want from each one.
> 
> Ears/Tail of the sand cat  
> Fluffiness from the snow leopard  
> Ocelot body marking  
> Size of the margay  
> Face markings, eyes, teeth, claws from the Asian golden cat  
> Hunting patterns and protective instinct from all of them?
> 
> When I don't have art block I'll try and draw his two forms


	7. Play Something I Can Understand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe this is too short a chapter? Are they being forgiving too soon? I'm not sure.

When they go to leave, Eskel grabs both of his swords and Jaskier takes multiple large steps back. Eskel sighs lowly and shakes his head, looking ready to offer reassurances. The bard shakes his head hard and frowns. He shouldn’t be scared of his friend. Eskel wouldn’t use the swords on him. He’s still scared he’ll use the silver one on himself.

Getting to the room opposite is a chore. Jaskier wants badly to reach out to Eskel for support when walking. He wants to hold on to his hand, feel the warmth there. Reassure himself that Eskel is actually there. The thought of actually doing so makes him curl his hands up into fist. Jaskier flinches bodily when he does so, hand throbbing harshly in pain. Eskel sends him a look, like he knows what Jaskier has just done, but he doesn’t offer any help, just a frown so serious that his eyebrows furrow with it. This is terrible. Why does it need to be like this?

Eskel opens the door for Jaskier and the bard slides beside him, into the room, dutifully. The only noise between them is their breathing. The witcher is hardly looking at Jaskier. It doesn’t really feel like he’s even come back. The bard feels like he may start hyperventilating again. Not a good thing to do. He doesn’t need the witcher worrying more for him. Eskel has his own worries. He doesn’t want the witcher loaded down with more of the bards’ bullshit.

“...The bath will be here in a few minutes, Jaskier.” Eskel offers out stiffly.

Jaskier nods just as stiff. “I can wash and bandage myself if you need me too. I just need the wraps.”

Eskel swallows and after what feels like hours, shakes his head. “We need normalcy...and we need to talk. We… We are always...able to talk after bathing.” He almost sounds unsure, like this time will be different.

This time will be different. This is different than talking about favorite past times and silly stories from childhood. This is serious, so very serious. Jaskier gives him a look like this is crazy. This is crazy. Eskel doesn’t _do_ this. He doesn’t have heart-to-hearts with monsters-nonhumans.

Before Jaskier can offer up any kind of answer the innkeeper knocks on the door and Eskel ushers him in with the water. The bath is filled and he’s staring at Jaskier expectantly. It’s like a reverse version of the first time, with a lot more wounds and blood...and a lot more stilted conversation.

Jaskier removes the robe and carefully slides himself into the water. It’s too hot and he hisses at the contact. Nonetheless the submerges himself until it’s up to his neck. Eskel watches him do so, making sure he doesn’t fall or hurt himself worse. This is horrid. How do you help a person that has intentionally hurt themself.

“You always smell of nutmeg? Can I use that on you? Or do you want something else?”

Jaskier gives a blank look like he’s not following along and maybe he really isn’t. He seems to have gone off into a different world at the feel of the water. It’s troublesome.

“Whirlwind?” The bard’s head snaps up and he’s staring up with cornflower blue eyes giving full attention. “Nutmeg or something else?”

“You don’t have to wash me, Eskel. I can do it.”

Eskel looks put upon. “I want to. It looks like you broke your shoulder wounds open during your last bath.”

They both flinch at that.

“I- The nutmeg is fine.” Jaskier whispers. He wants to scrub himself raw again. Eskel knows too much of him. It’s maddening. This isn’t alright. They aren’t alright.

“You...I thought you were- That you...I should have known you wouldn’t- I mean…” He’s rambling, hushed words that Eskel has to strain his ears to hear. It breaks his heart.

“I’m still really lost. I broke a tree.” Eskel admits sheepishly.

Jaskier doesn’t laugh at that, just worries at his hand. He can’t see the scabs on Eskel’s hand. They’re already healed, but they must have been bloody and painful.

“I’m sorry- Really sorry.” The bard curls up, face near his knees.

The witcher brings the nutmeg oil over to the singer and sits behind him, starts running hands through his hair. It’s nice to move through a familiar task in such an unfamiliar circumstance.

“Were you going to hide it forever? Or-”

“No! ...No, I wanted to explain it slowly. Take my time, help you understand.” Jaskier doesn’t turn back to look at him, but his hands clench enough in the water that Eskel can see blood flow. This is hard to understand, but he really is trying.

Jaskier stares straight ahead, eyes tearing. Eskel thought that he was going to lie to him forever? Did he just think that Jaskier was that kind of person, to lead a friend on. This conversation is so much either with them not looking at each other. At least the witcher had been right about that.

“Was your mother one?” The congealed blood is slowly picked out and the rest of the tangles picked free. Jaskier’s hair is thick. A side effect of his animal side?”

“I don’t know… Father heavily implied that she was “abnormal”.” Jaskiers’ hands come up and his fingers pull into quotation marks. It’s so uncomfortable, answering these questions. He wants Eskel to feel at ease though.

His hair is suds up and the smell starts to set in. It’s comforting and Jaskier is glad that the witcher knows that.

“A question for you. I don’t want you to be offended. When you came in the room...did you think I was the shifter to kill?”

Eskel pauses in his work and Jaskier shifts uncomfortably. Jaskier is asking for honesty and has freely given honesty so far, so Eskel thinks he should give some back. Even if it will hurt. 

“For a while...You aren’t recognizable in your other form...but your actions are- ahem- mostly you.” Jaskier turns red and sniffles. He knows what the witcher means. The encompassing feeling of bloodlust. The need to kill and feel it even after the enemy is dead and gone.

“It’s always been that way. Even when I started showing…” Jaskier mumbles. Eskel returns to his motions, washing out the suds and moving on to wash gently at the scratches and bite marks. 

“When did you...show? Start shifting?”

“After the temple? During it? Right before I ran away?” Jaskier answers like he can’t really remember. Jaskier really can’t. Those were a jumble of days.

“Have you killed before?”

The question stops them both and Eskel immediately feels himself drain of color. He hadn’t meant to ask that yet. Jaskier is staring at him. Staring hard.

“Will you kill me if I answer honestly?” He says flatly.

The witchers’ blood goes cold. “No. I won’t.” It’s quick. He doesn’t need to think about it. He’s already decided for the most part that Jaskier is nonhuman, not a monster.

“I did. I relished it. Bandits. I was naive for traveling alone. They were naive for thinking I traveled without any kind of weapon.”

Eskel imagines it and his skins tingles all over. He remembers the beginning of his dream and manages to nod his head.

He doesn't want to continue down the line of that question and feeling so he turns to another one. Jaskier seems thankful and turns back around. The witcher wipes over more wounds.

"Are your senses heightened?" Hd has a lot of reasons for asking. The dream comes bsck again. He doesn't need the singer smelling that on him.

"When I'm in my other forms. Right now...everything is filled as a humans'."

Eskel breathes in deeply.

"Your lifespan?"

"...I guess a long, long time...but I can die from a lot of human things too...so I'm not immortal? I'll be long lived?" He rambles, like he's trying to figure it out himself and Eskel grimaces. Jaskier knows so little of his race.

"Eskel...I need to stop answering questions. I know you need the answers, but I feel like I'm going to claw myself again." Jaskier says softly.

The witcher had stopped noticing Jaskier's discomfort some questions ago and now he feels...wrong.

"Do you need to ask me something?" He offers as an apology.

"Have you met any shifters before?"

"A fox and an eagle. They'd never been in civilization before. Beyond feral…" He trails off and Jaskier nods in sad understanding.

"Does my form bother you?" Jaskier rubs at himself. Eskel makes a choked off sound. He's heating up again. Fangs. Claws. Ears. Tail. Bright Golden Eyes.

"No." He chokes out. "No, it's new. I'd want to see it again."

He watches as the bard flushes pink. Why would Eskel want to see that again?

"Will you… Will you leave me now that you have answers?" Jaskier sounds weak, unsure, tired.

Eskel rubs his arms as soothingly as possible.

"I won't. I know you don't believe it. I won't."

"I was going to run myself through." The bard suddenly admits. Eskel makes a noise close to a whine and eyes his swords like they've betrayed him.

"I'm glad you didn't, Little Sparrow."

Jaskier smiles weakly.

"Can I get bandaged up now, Darling Witcher?"

They're both being tentative with each other. Hopefully it'll get better.

\--

Bandaging takes a long time. They nearly run out toward the end and Eskel really wants to ask how many of them were self-inflicted. He can tell the bites were, and some of the clawing. It's the dangs and others that he's not so sure on.

He treats the nekker wounds again and puts poultice on the deeper bites. The smaller scratches he leaves to recover on their own. When theyre finished Jaskier looks almost mummy's. He also looks half asleep.

Eskel pulls a chemise over his head and Jaskier doesn't question being set under the covers in the bed. He does curl in on himself though. Eskel frowns and undresses to his smallclothes, rethinking it at the last moment and pulling his shirt back on. He slides in around Jaskier, but doesn't pull him in. It feels wrong to do that. Sleep comes slowly for him. He'd gotten answers and now part of him was more confused than ever before. Frustrating, so frustrating.

When sleep comes, he only sleeps for an hour before he feels long limbs wrapped tightly around him, less to protect this time, more to make sure he doesn't disappear. Claws are pricking his side, but Jaskier is still sleeping. Eskel runs fingers through his hair, ignoring the feeling in his gut. The raw pressing heat bubbling up and closes his eyes again.

When he wakes up it's morning, and the bard isn't cuddled up with him. He's by the packs, organizing and writing in his notebook at the same time. He gives Eskel the most tentative of smiles and Eskel feels his heart go soft again. They'll get through this. They will.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Catskier: https://mobile.twitter.com/CloudSpeck/status/1262148965878968325
> 
> I don't use my twitter, more my instagram...and even with the art block I really wanted to try my hand at drawing him, or at least doodling him. xx


	8. Relax, Let Go, Let Fly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yep, I sure did use the extra popular and overused gift-giving thing :)  
> I did that.

The next morning Eskel wakes to a cold bed. He grasps around for the missing bard and when he doesn’t find him, opens his eyes to see if he’s still in the room. The bard is in the room, frantically cribling in his notebook and organizing his bags at the same time. The witcher clears his throat and Jaskier slams his notebook shut with a thwap. It looks like Eskel won’t be hearing any of his music any time soon. The thought so early in the morning is upsetting.

The witcher rubs at his eyes and sits up, Jaskier watches him with cautious eyes.

“Did you sleep okay?” His voice is rough.”

Jaskier nods his head a little too quickly. “Yes, like a baby.” He’s lying. Eskel frowns at him and Jaskier’s shoulders slump. “No, I didn’t sleep well. My dreams were...bad.” 

The witcher rubs at his face and sets his feet on the floor, making a noise when the cold of them races up his legs. “My dreams weren’t enjoyable either.”

Jaskier worries his lips and moves to stand, walking carefully over to Eskel. “I’m sorry for your dreams. I know they’re my fault. I wish I could stop them...and I wish that things were normal between us.”

Eskel wants to reassure him, but it’s the truth. The dreams are his fault and things are still abnormal. Jaskier bunches his hands in the hem of his chemise and wets his lips. “Can I- You can say no- Can I give you a hug?”

The witcher stares at him and Jaskier continues to fidget with his clothing. He wants a hug. Does he want a hug right now? Jaskier’s hugs are wonderful? Would a hug make him feel worse or better? Would a hug be good for the bard? Is he asking for himself? Jaskier goes to move away and Eskel’s hand shoots out, wavering in the air.

“A hug sounds nice, Jas. Be careful of your bandages, yeah?” Jaskier gives him a bright, sunny grin for the first time since this whole debacle and doesn’t listen to the warning, wrapping his arms tightly around the witcher. Eskel immediately feels the comfort of it. The bard is the kind of person comforted by touch. It makes sense that this would put him at ease...or at least help to put him there.

Jaskier hugs him for long seconds before slowly pulling back and releasing him. He swallows roughly and despite the smile, looks like he’s crawling in his skin. “I know I need to earn your trust back. I really will try. You’re my best friend. My only friend. I don’t want to lose that and I’ll do anything you need of me.” He’s truly sincere in his words.

The witcher reaches forward and pulls him into another hug, breathing in the nutmeg on him. He isn’t looking for Jaskier to change. He doesn’t want the bard to try and be different. He just needs to understand the bard better, that’s all.

“Jaskier, listen closely. I have very few friends. The closest friends I have ever had are my brothers. You are my friend. I don’t need you to be different or to change. We just need to have honesty between each other.”

The words feel funny on his tongue. “I’m not sure how it’s going to go at first, but as long as we’re both trying…”

Jaskier nods fervently. He understands. He can’t lose Eskel. If he has to be completely honest in absolutely everything, he will be. If Eskel asks him any question, no matter how uncomfortable it makes him, he’ll tell him. He needs to keep the witcher. He can’t be a disappointment to him too.

__

Readying themselves for the day is a quick affair, if a little quiet. Eskel asks to check Jaskiers’ bandages once and the bard lets him. They’ll probably need to be changed when they get back during the night. Jaskier steals one of Eskels’ light beige shirts with his permission and pairs it with dark pants that seem thin and a little billowy. He tucks those into his brown boots. Eskel pulls on his usual black pants and maroon shirt, armour afterwards, even though Jaskier sends him a look. He contemplates the swords and after a quick look at Jaskier, sheathes them quickly. The bard still tenses, but it seems like more of an automatic response left over from the past few days.

“...Do you still want to go look at the festival, Whirlwind?” The witcher asks as they make their way down the stairs. The festival is supposed to be going on for the next week. It’s one of the longer ones that Eskel has seen. The witcher doesn’t know if the bard wants to go anymore though, he hadn’t brought his notebook or his lute, nothing to entertain with, like he usually would have done.

“I haven’t been to one in a year or...maybe a year or 2? It’s hard to keep track sometimes?” Jaskier has the wistful look in his eyes again that he gets when he’s remembering his old friend. Eskel clears his throat to shake the bard out of it. No sense in causing the bard a double dose of pain.

“So, we try and enjoy the festing? Maybe it will lighten our moods?” Eskel offers up politely. He secretly thinks that it’s still too loud, but he wants Jaskier to enjoy another one of these...and maybe in the process of watching Jaskier, he’ll enjoy it too?

“I’d like to try. They usually have bonfires and a pole that they wrap in ribbons. There’s dancing and music- Though, to be honest, some of the musicians leave much to be desired. Valdo Marx tried once. It was a grave error on his part.” Jaskier makes a face and Eskel chuckles. He isn’t sure who Valdo Marx is, but he’s sure that it’s someone the bard dislikes.

“The food is pretty good too...and they have booths sometimes… People come and sell things from all over.” He’s getting excited now and they haven’t even left the inn. “I stayed with the Countess de Stael once and one of the towns outside her estate had a festival… Of course, she didn’t want to attend, but I went. I got the loveliest bracelet. It had this glass wolf charm…” He stops walking and the excitement seems to seep out. “...I think I lost it.” That’s not true, he didn’t lose it, but he doesn’t tell Eskel that he’d really thrown it over the mountainside in a fit of pique.

Eskel opens the door for him and doesn’t make a comment about the bracelet or the change in attitude, which Jaskier is grateful for. He doesn’t want to answer any direct questions about it. The first place they go is to check on their horses. The innkeepers stableboy had been kind enough to keep an eye on them and feed them, for which Jaskier praises him. So kind, so sweet. Eskel watches in some amusement as the boy blushes red. It doesn’t make him feel jealous to see it, just happy to see Jaskier act a little like himself. Scorpion and Hellebore seem happy to see them, a little restless, but otherwise well-fed and well-rested. Jaskier approves.

They head toward the noise next. Eskel observes the humans and how they seem more at ease right now, dressed more colorfully, and a lot of them loud and drunk. Jaskier was not kidding about the music and dancing. Kids are singing and dancing about without supervision and teenagers look like they’re trying to court each other. It’s a bit chaotic. It also smells like 5 different kinds of animal are being roasted and multiple sorts of alcohol have been distilled. The witcher is getting overwhelmed again, but Jaskier looks so pleased, that he tries to focus on him.

The bard flits about, joining in a dance with a few of the younger children, and receives a flower crown for his efforts. He talks to an elderly woman holding out chains of multicolor string and receives one of those. A girl that’s not quite a woman asks him for a dance and he twirls her about, receiving a kiss on the cheek. He doesn’t stray far from the circle he’s made for himself around Eskel, which the witcher thinks is an unconscious choice. Either way it’s appreciated. After the 6th song, the bard returns to him and the flower crown is placed crookedly atop the witcher’s head. His energy is infectious and Eskel is starting to forget about their problems.

“Darling Witcher, will you dance with me?” Eskel looks contemplative, before standing up from the place he’d made for himself.

“I’m a terrible dancer, Whirlwind.” Jaskier shrugs like that doesn’t bother him in the slightest. It probably doesn’t.

“You need to take your swords off though, okay? I don’t think anyone will touch them.” The bard says a little softer, eying the weapons on his back before looking at Eskel’s face again. He right the crown on the witcher’s head, the braid of strings on his wrist swaying back and forth.

Eskel steps back, hand moving to his swords, tapping at a hilt. Jaskier is watching him, waiting for his decision. Jaskier doesn’t look like he’d be upset if the witcher said no, but this seems like it is an important thing for the two of them and the trust they’re trying for. Jaskier would probably hide exactly how upset he’d be anyway.

Eskel unbuckles everything for the swords and then places it all next to his seat. Jaskier’s eyes light up in delight and he moves closer to the witcher, holding out his uninjured hand. “Thank you, Darling. Thank you.” It sounds like more than just regular thanks and Eskel’s insides squirm in something close to pleasure.

He looks back toward his swords once before the bard is pulling them in among the fray of dancers. Their dancing is clumsy, but Jaskier holding onto him, warm and close, makes it okay. Makes it fun. They dance three lively songs together and Jaskier laughs happily during half of them. By the end he’s breathing heavily and pulling Eskel back out and toward the booths and the ale.

When they’re away from the music Eskel takes a second to appreciate the way Jaskier looks, flushed, breathing hard, and smiling sweetly. The feeling he gets when Jaskier is in his human form is so much less confusing than the one he gets when Jaskier is shifted. He is right about the festival being a good idea for the two of them.

The ale goes down warmly while they walk the booths. Jaskier touches everything he can get his hands on. It’s fascinating to watch. He could be a bird with how he flits about from item to item. Fabrics, keepsakes, figurines, pottery. They stop at a booth full of jewelry and Eskel eyes the pieces. They’re nice, some wooden and some metal. Durable pieces in different shapes. Jaskier is standing off to the side having an animated conversation with the booth owner’s wife. Eskel runs his fingers over a couple of the smaller cuffs. They’re pretty. Jaskier said he’d had a bracelet before.

The witcher continues to look through and that’s when he spots the animal bracelets. They’re braided leather and the charms are metal. They look nice. They look like something Jaskier might wear. Eskel looks up to see where said bard has moved on too and sees him off talking to a fur trader about what looks like a fox pelt. Eskel turns back and gets the attention of the woman behind the table. He tries to look as unthreatening as possible.

“Miss?” She’s young, barely a woman. At the address, all her attention is focused on him. Her mother is soon over with her, looking at him with something like curiosity.

“Witcher? How can we be of service to ye?” It’s the mother that answers. The daughter slinks back off to another side of the table. The mother doesn’t smell like fear and it’s really uncomfortable to him, but he supposes that she was just talking to Jaskier, so maybe that has something to do with it?

“These bracelets here.” The woman nods. “How much would it cost to have a charm added next to one that’s already been made?”

The woman lips purse up and her eyes are scrutinising. “Which bracelet?”

“The brown leather...with the wild cat.” He points at the strap of four twined leather pieces and the silver snarling cat face. It looks vicious.

The woman pulls it from the table and looks it over. “What are ye wanting added to it?”

Eskel looks over the other charms before picking up a wolf head to match the cats’. “This one.”

“A matching pair of friends.” The lady smiles, still calculating.

Eskel coughs awkwardly and averts his eyes. Jaskier is off looking at dried fruits and nuts now. It looks like he’s trying to haggle. The woman follows his line of site.

“For a lover, not a friend?” Eskel splutters at the audacity of the lady.

“A best friend.” The woman smirks. Older women always see too much.

“Witcher, I may not live as long as you, but I know when someone feels the beginnings of a lovesickness. The bard seems taken with you too, with how he seemed to lose his flowery words about you.”

The witcher actually fidgets at this, uncomfortable beyond belief.

“How much would it cost, madam?”

She laughs and unclasps the bracelet, sliding the other charm in place.

“Half-price if you bring me back an ale and some sugar pecans.” Eskel nods his thanks and hands over what little coin he has left, taking the bracelet from her.

“I’ll have to bring the food by after I get the money from my room.”

She waves him off and moves on to another client. The witcher nods and turns to find Jaskier walking back with a bag full of snacks and a chain or something. He waves awkwardly and Eskel grins at him.  
\--

When they get back to the room that night, things seem a little easier between them. They’ve had a good amount of ale and they’ve eaten a fair amount of food. They had danced quite a bit more and Jaskier had acquired three more flower crowns and a purple sash from somewhere. He can’t really remember where.

Getting in the room, the bard places his spoils out on the desk, some of the fruits falling from their bag. He sets all the crowns off to the side and the sash gets tossed on top of his bag. He holds the necklace in his hand a little unsurely, but he got it for a reason, so he isn’t going to chicken out now, so he turns around with it.

“I got you-”

“I got you-”

They both speak at the same time. Jaskier huffs out a soft laugh and Eskel motions for him to speak first.

“I got you something at the stalls. It’s probably silly, but I liked it...and maybe you would too? You don’t need to feel obligated to wear it though. My feelings won’t be hurt. I know witcher’s really only wear their medallions. I mean, that’s silly. I’m sure not every witcher only wears just their medallion. I’m rambling. Here.” He shoves the necklace toward Eskel.

Eskel watches somewhat amused until the necklace is practically shoved into his chest. He grabs it gently and holds it up to look at it. It’s the chain he’d seen from earlier. Dark metal, sturdy links, a strong clasp...and a delicate buttercup charm hanging off of it. Eskel looks up at Jaskier and then back at the necklace. He can hear Jaskier shuffle nervously the longer he takes to look at it.

“I know that we’re having problems and I know this fixes nothing, but…” Jaskier trails off.

Eskel chuckles softly and holds out the gift he’d been holding in his pocket. Jaskier stops his shuffling and takes it, unwrapping slowly. The gasp that comes from him isn’t one that the witcher can discern as good or bad. Jaskier laughs wetly and Eskel can smell the tears before they fall. He’s alarmed and moving before he even realizes what he’s doing. He didn’t mean for Jaskier to cry. That was the complete opposite of what he’d intended from the gift.

Eskel sets a hand on Jaskier’s shoulder and it takes a few minutes for him to calm down to just sniffling.

“This is fitting. Wolves and Wild Cats.” Another wet laugh, wetter than the last. “Would you put it on me please? My hand is cramping a little.” He twitches his hand and sniffles again. Now that the rush of everything is starting to calm, he’s really feeling his wounds again, hand especially. He shouldn’t have moved it so much.

Eskel takes the bracelet back and Jaskier holds out his wrist delicately. The bracelet is clipped around and tightened and the first thing Jaskier notices is how comforting the weight is. It’s a nice bracelet, well made. The only part that reminds him of his old bracelet is the wolf, and even then it’s only because it _is_ a wolf. The fact that Eskel thought to get him a bracelet at all...and one with a cat AND a wolf. It says a lot. The bard fingers at it and lifts his head to smile at the witcher.

“Thank you for this. I will always cherish it.”

Eskel gives him a minute to admire the gift and gives himself a minute to admire the warm butterflies that come from the smiles Jaskier graces him with before holding up the necklace. “Will you put this on me, Whirlwind?”

The bard takes the necklace back and unclasps it. Eskel bends down so that the singer can wrap it around his neck and put it back together. When it’s in place the witcher stands back to full height and holds it up to look at it again. “I’ll be sure to keep it next to my medallion.” He flashes a smile to the bard. Jaskier looks like he might melt at the comment. He’s so pleased that Eskel likes the present.

\--

Having his bandages redone goes much the same as the night before. Eskel spends extra time on his hand, inspecting it for any infection and eying it with sadness. It’s going to be a constant reminder between the two of them. Jaskier’s only now realizing this. He’s also just now realizing that his lute work is probably going to suffer.

When Eskel finishes bandaging his hand and moves on to his shoulders, Jaskier plays with his new bracelet.

“I didn’t lose my last bracelet.” He offers up softly when Eskel is at his back and they can’t look at each other. Eskel makes an ‘mmm’ noise to show that he’s heard. “I threw it over the mountain...I held a lot of associations with it.” He mumbles as a way of explanation and fingers at the bracelet some more.

The witcher contemplates this. It makes more sense than simply losing a favorite bracelet. Jaskier doesn’t seem like the kind of person to lose favorite things. “It made you think of him.” He gives as a reply.

“To an extent.” Jaskier nods. Eskel finishes wrapping up his midsection and passes him the chemise from the chair.

“Did you ever write anything happy about him?” Jaskier blanches and drops the undergarment, turning to look at Eskel with wide, wide eyes. Eskel clams up too. “Did I ask the wrong kind of question?”

Jaskier nods and bites his lip, folding up a little. “I want to be honest. I really want to be honest about that. It hurts more than talking about my shifting.”

Eskel puffs out a breath. “You don’t need to answer the question. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable, Jaskier. Friends shouldn’t do that to each other. You only have to answer what you want to. He did a number on you. You have your right to privacy about him.”

“I haven’t sang any happy songs about him in a long time...I’ve tried. I really can’t. Can we talk about something, anything else?” Jaskier feels like he is failing somehow. Eskel feels like he has failed Jaskier somehow.

“...I could tell you about my first wyvern hunt?” He offers up as an apology. He knows Jaskier likes the detailed stories of monster adventures. Jaskier perks up quickly, forgetting the conversation about songs for the moment.

“Yes, as long as I can sing a song about you.” His smile is teasing, but his tone is serious. Eskel makes a face. No one would want to hear a song about him. They like songs about Geralt. Geralts’ bard does a good job about that. No one would want to hear songs about Eskel, no matter how good a bard Jaskier really is.

“Alright. You can. I don’t know how much of an audience you’ll get-but-...Well, it goes like this…” And he starts the story.


	9. Let's Not Forget The Sunrise In The Sky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> some hunting and some shifting and some storytelling

They spend 4 more days in the town and only decide to leave when it seems like the innkeeper might finally be tiring of them. Jaskier has amassed quite a collection of favors from both the men and women that were present at the festival. It’s some sort of magical power he has over people. He calls it charisma. Eskel tells him that a witcher could be drowning in charisma and people would still try and avoid them like the plague. Jaskier’s answer to that is to wrap a scarf around his neck and press a featherlight kiss to his cheek. Eskel doesn’t need to be drowning in any kind of charisma to have Jaskier’s affection.

After they leave the town they head south-westward. They’re still somewhere in Redania, Jaskier thinks. They haven’t crossed the Pontar, he knows that much. The travel goes at a gentle speed, the horses seem fine with it and Jaskier spends the time braiding some of the colored string he received as gifts into Hellebore’s mane. It looks quite fetching. He’s sure the horse thinks so too, as there haven’t been any complaints on her end. He wants to braid some into Scorpions hair next, maybe Eskel will let him when they stop for the night? The witcher has let him do it before after all.

The duo have ridden 4 hours when they take their first break, one to eat a meal of dried fruits and meat, and to water the horses. 

“So, will we camp tonight? Or try to find another contract?” Jaskier asks conversationally between pieces of apricot.

Eskel tilts his head in thought and takes another bite of his jerky. On the one hand, they’ll probably be tired after a day of travel. On the other, they have been resting over the last few days...and they are in desperate need of coin, especially now that Jaskier will be out of commission for a while. The bard gives him a sheepish look like he knows where Eskel's thoughts are.

“We need to find a new contract. I need to refill a few potion ingredients and the medical supplies are somewhat depleted.” Eskel says cordially. 

Jaskier pulls at his shirt awkwardly, running fingers along the last bandages remaining on him. Yes, the medical supplies were low and it was all his fault. He liked that Eskel added him into the ‘contract finding’ though. That was nice.

“We could try a few small contracts instead of a large one? Less chance for you to get hurt?” He smiles hopefully.

Eskel nods in assent and then sets his food down, arms crossing on top of his knees. He gives Jaskier a long stare. Jaskier swallows and sets his own food down.

“...Did I say something wrong?” The look on Eskel’s face is worrisome.

The witcher shakes his head, but the unease seems to permeate the air.

“Do you want to help me on our next hunt?”

Jaskier chokes a gasp and tips back, catching himself on his bare hand. He hadn’t been expecting that as a question. More, he’d been expecting to be told to stay behind or to not cause trouble...something along the lines of that.

“I-wait- You want me to-But what if I… Won’t I distra- But even then- I don’t really- Why?” The words are all gasped out and confused and kind of frustrated. Eskel waits for the bard to get himself back under control.

“My thought, and perhaps it’s crazy, is that if we hunt together, we’ll get used to each other more? You’re still flinching at my sword…” Jaskier goes to object to this and Eskel raises his hand to touch it as an example. The bard immediately flinches back and then hangs his head in shame. “I know you aren’t doing it because you _really_ think I’ll hurt you, but I think that if we hunted something small together...maybe it would help you be more at ease with my sword…”

“And you to be more at ease with...me.” Jaskier finishes softly, fingering at his bracelet. The bard stays silent for long minutes and Eskel goes back to eating his food.

The wait is excruciating and it’s when the witcher starts thinking that he’s made a mistake that Jaskier starts talking again. 

“It has to be something really small...and...and no matter how it goes, you need to promise me that you will not leave me alone after. If I hurt you, you need to...” His fingers are moving faster over the bracelet, thumbing at the charms.

“I’ve been hurt before.” The witcher says the words, but he knows what Jaskier means. The bard’s point is further proven when he makes a wounded sound.

“You may be a witcher, but I will not be giving you anymore scars!”

Eskel nods and places a hand on his knee comfortingly. “It’ll go well, Whirlwind. If it doesn’t, I’ll get out of your range. I won’t leave you. I promise, but I won’t be using my sword on you.”

Jaskier’s hand moves from the bracelet to grasp at Eskel’s hand before he’s standing and moving over to the horses.

“Okay, break is over. We have a town to get to.”

Eskel shakes his head and follows after the bard, a fond expression on his face.

\--

After another three hours, they stop off at something that could hardly be called a village, let alone a town. One man is kind, if reluctant, enough to offer them a place to tie up their horses for the night. Their notice board is sorely lacking in the monster department. Sorely lacking. There are maybe three and one of which is definitely not something that he’ll be going near without a full supply of potions and bomb supply. The other two though…

“This one says that it’s sucking the livestock dry?” Jaskier questions quietly, holding the parchment out to Eskel. There’s hardly anything on it other than that one sentence and the word, ‘hairy’...but it kind of feels like any monster on land gets described that way, so it’s hard to count it as an actual help in what the monster could be. Jaskier chews at his lip and takes the paper back. Eskel holds up the other one.

“This one says ‘Makes a disgusting noise and our kids follow it into the woods at night. They come back the next day aged, or not at all.” Jaskier pulls it from his hands and holds onto it tightly.

“Well...At least it doesn’t say hairy?” He tries for lightness. It’s always terrible when children are being messed with. “...This doesn’t sound like a little hunt.” The bard adds as an unsteady afterthought.

Eskel frowns and shakes his head. “It won’t be a little hunt. It’s probably fae or something like them. Not near as lovely as poems and songs will have you think...but, it’s better than the forktail in that one.” The witcher points to the notice that he wouldn’t even touch. “...and I’m not even sure where to begin with this one. Vampire? Chupacabra? A twisted neighbor?” He jokes awkwardly.

Jaskier sighs and tacks the ‘chupacabra’ back to the board, handing the ‘fae’ over to Eskel. “Okay then, what do we need for this? I don’t actually know anything of substance about fae. Only what’s in songs and poems.” He gives Eskel a very, very sheepish grin, one that tells the witcher that Jaskier has probably _written_ a good few of them.

Eskel gives him an overly put upon look and rolls his eyes heavensward. This would be an interesting fight.

“We need St. John’s Wort for protection and rowan berries to keep the fae at bay…” The witcher starts to tick things off with his fingers. “We can see if the villagers would be willing to part with some bread and milk, but that seems unlikely.”

“Bread and milk?” Jaskier queries.

“Well, depending who we’re dealing with, they’ll love the bread and milk...or they’ll really fucking hate it.” Eskel grins. Jaskier snorts a laugh out.

“A lot of the fae I’ve heard of seem to dislike salt too, so we can get some of that...and iron.” Eskel’s face turns suddenly serious and Jaskier’s laughter stops. “Iron is to fae as silver is to you.” Jaskier swallows hard, throat dry, like he hasn’t had a drink in years. He can’t tell if what he’s feeling is because Eskel won’t need to use the silver sword, or because he doesn’t know what Eskel is going to use in place of it.

The answer to that question is given a short while later when Eskel pulls a short sword from one of his larger packs. The bard just stares when he does so. How the hell had he not seen an extra sword amongst their belongings? Why the hell was Eskel carrying an extra sword? Did he just bring along extra weaponry for when the need arose? Of course he did. Witchers did weird things like that.

Jaskier huffs, bemused laughter bubbling out of him. “So, now we get plants to go with your surprise sword.”

He’s much too big to be holding such a small sword. He dwarfs the thing. It makes Jaskier focus all his attention on the witcher’s large hands and arms, a warmth starting low in him while staring.

“Yes, now we get the plants to go with my surprise sword.” Eskel gives an easy laugh back and Jaskier is back to focusing on the man’s face. “After we get the plants, we need to scout the woods and we need to do so before night hits...”

“Or?” Jaskier nudges, like he doesn’t already know.

“Or we may not come back either, Little Sparrow.”

The bard’s mouth shuts with a click and he grabs the rest of his daggers. He’s still stuck in Eskel’s looser shirts, not that he’s ever going to complain about that at all. They are comfortable and they smell like the man. If he had more of them, then Jaskier would steal them more often...the problem is that it isn’t fun to fight in shirts that slip and flow off of you...and if he has to transform… He purses his lips. He doesn’t want to wreck the witcher’s clothing, but it still hurts to put on his own shirts.

"...How angry would you be if I accidentally ripped your clothing?" Jaskier asks. It's meant to come out offhandedly. It comes out worried instead.

Eskel looks like he's thinking it over while they continue walking so Jaskier thoughtlessly tacks on a-

"I could go shirtless if that's easier. I've been naked in front of crowds before- Unintentional as it was- Then your clothes won't get messed up."

Eskel halts his steps abruptly and stares wide-eyed at the singer. That is the exact, sort of opposite of what Eskel wants. He doesn't want the bard naked. Well, no, wait. He does. Wait, does he? That wasn't actually Jaskier's question was it? No, the question was about ripped clothing...Jaskier was naked in front of a whole crowd before?

Jaskier rocks back and forth on his feet, patiently waiting for whatever mental battle Eskel is going through to be done. He hopes this isn't one of those 'Why is my travel mate a fucking idiot?' battles. Eskel doesn't seem to have a lot of those, but that doesn't mean they aren't a possibility.

The witcher is giving him an inscrutable look. It's one that makes Jaskier feel a little tingly. It's also one that makes him feel a little nervous.

"You went naked in a crowd of people?" It's not the first thing Jaskier was expecting to be asked and definitely not the first thing Eskel meant to say, but the bard grins sharply, nerves loosening. This is something easy to talk about.

“When I started at Oxenfurt, I was young...and a lightweight with my ale.” He smiles. Eskel’s watching him with an uptick in his mouth. The beginning of a smile at this story? They’ve been having some issues with telling stories face-to-face. 

“One of the first places I played at, it went really pitifully. Getting the crowd to join in, ugh, it was like pouring water into a sieve. When it was over, my friend Priscilla- sweetest girl you’ll ever meet- took me to a different tavern that was in the full swing of things.” He gives a full-blown grin like he’s reliving this particular memory as they walk. Eskel’s happy for the smile. “They were a younger crowd that was obvious. I’m sure they had a business going with the very beautiful ladies next door. They must have. Either way...back to the point I was making. I was really lightweight with my ale and had already had quite a bit to drink in my attempt at lightening up my night’s failed performance.” He takes hold of Eskel’s free hand and swings it along. Eskel stares down at their twined fingers.

“We’ve been in this place for maybe an hour and I’ve had at least 4 more ales and 2 spirits of some sort. Priscilla is laughing at something I have said and the lovely man I have been sat on and flirting to for the last 20 minutes has just offered to take me to the back...when out of nowhere my beautiful blue doublet is splashed in red.” Jaskier waves his hand down his front theatrically. “Before I can even insult the one who has wounded me in such a way, the man says, “I’ll pay to have it remade, but…”

“I already know I’m going to do whatever he says, because he might have wounded my doublet and whatever pride I have, but damned if that wasn’t an expensive piece of finery.” Jaskier huffs haughtily and Eskel smirks at the display. “I had to shuck down to my nethers and run from one end of the town square to the other and then back again, a full circuit. It probably should have been embarrassing with how many people came out to watch the drunkard run naked...but I ended up with three very beautiful, very pleased people in my bed that night _AND_ a new doublet.” 

It’s Eskel’s turn to give a loud laugh. Of-fucking-course. Jaskier is exactly the kind of person that would benefit from something meant to demean. Of course Jaskier would end up in a foursome and still get his original reward. He has so much confidence for such trivial things. Jaskier is giving him one of those sweet, Cheshire grins and Eskel gives him a small one in return. 

“Are you still a lightweight?” Eskel bumps his shoulder, “You act it sometimes.” He adds teasingly.

Jaskier scoffs. “Darling Witcher, you know you don’t have to get me slam drunk to get me naked right?” The bard teases back, quick as a whip and without a thought to consequence.

Eskel’s whole body heats up quickly at the thought and the way it was said. One look at Jaskier and he knows the bard feels it in his hand...but the bard doesn’t say anything about it, so he chooses not to either.

Teasing isn’t the same as being serious and that wasn’t a serious offer. Jaskier is just his best friend. His best friend that he’s currently having some emotional trust issues with...and some longing issues with...and just a whole slew of issues with.

“So...Do you think this little podunk has a baker...or should we just knock on a random door and ask for some bread?” Jaskier asks quietly. He’s a little worried that Eskel’s going to let go of him, so he holds on tighter to his hand. He doesn’t want Eskel to start getting uncomfortable. Feelings are confusing things.

\--

The fae hunt goes the exact opposite of everything they had originally planned for a small hunt. It’s not a little monster. Hell, Eskel’s not even sure what the name of this sort of fae is, just that it is very ugly and rather large. It’s missing a face, but it’s still able to sing...at least, Jaskier says it’s singing (“trilling, Eskel, keep up”). Claws that are much, much sharper than the bards and it moves fluidly, body low crawling, instead of standing upright. It’d be taller than Eskel otherwise. 

They’re lucky they brought their wards, otherwise they’d probably be inside the fae’s circle with the children already there, some of which don’t really look like children anymore, but old women and men. The creature has probably been feeding off their life force. Why a fae would choose these people is a guess that Eskel can only begin to try and make.

Jaskier hasn’t been very talkative through this, but he does seem a little sharper-sensed and the witcher can tell that his features have started to shift the longer that they have been at this. He isn’t sure the bard has noticed yet or how it’ll make him feel when he does so.

The witcher has only gotten close enough twice to try and stab it and both times have ended in nearly being pulled in. When he tries and fails for a third time to get at the creature, that’s when he decides to pull Jaskier back and reassess the situation and their course of action. He grabs Jaskier by the hand, letting the bard's claws prick him and not really caring this time. The kids in the circle are looking even more sickly. He needs to distract the fae. He doesn’t know how to distract it or what even will distract it. The witcher clicks his tongue and shoots a glance to the bard.

“Jaskier?” The singer turns bodily to look at him, hand gripping a little tighter, like he knows he’s about to be asked something difficult.

“I’m not about to be bait am I?”

“What!?” It’s probably the quietest shout he’s ever given. Why would he ever put Jaskier through that. That would be wrong beyond all reason. “No. No, I don’t want you to be bait. I need you to be a distraction. You said once that you are very distracting.” Eskel tries to give him an easy smile.

“I need you to get it to focus on you. I don’t want it trying to eat you or anything like that...I don’t need anything like that. I just need it to be distracted enough to step out of the circle.” He points at the ring that the fae is in.

Jaskier looks incredibly uneasy and very unsure, but nods his head anyway and squeezes his hand once more for confidence.

“I don’t understand the plan, but if it’s a distraction you need-” He sounds so unconfident.

Jaskier releases the witcher’s hand and then removes the shirt he’s wearing. He wasn’t kidding about not wanting to ruin Eskel’s clothing. He sets it down with care and then kicks out of his boots and trousers, setting them down next to the shirt. The change is fast, well, fast enough. Still as stinging as it usually is. Eskel’s got a look on his face, something near admiration and Jaskier wants to say something, but the only thing that comes out is a quiet rumbling noise. He’s not terribly large or menacing in this form, but he’s quick and light-footed. 

Before Eskel can get a word out about Jaskier’s full transformation, the shifter is off and sprinting toward the creature. Eskel is a little lost for a second. Jaskier is beautiful...and small. A lot smaller than he thought the bard would be. He was expecting Jaskier to be a large wild cat, vicious and snarling, but Jaskier looks like he could be a sweet pet. The difference between his imaginings and the truth is disconcerting.

There’s a yowl off to his left and his rambling thoughts are left for later. Jaskier has the fae stepping out of the circle, trying to chase after the new meal. Okay, so maybe the bard is playing bait a little bit….just a little bit. Eskel will feel guilty about this later, probably when he’s had more chance to think about this all more fully. Eskel moves quickly, sword slipping down to throw up an igni.

It seems to work, in that it buys time for Jaskier to move away from the monster. The creature shrieks and the bard is a little lost on which way he’s meant to go. There’s smoke and shrieking and he’s feeling vaguely useless, so he moves toward where it smells the strongest of the witcher. He fucking hates being this close to the ground. Before Jaskier can get to Eskel, the fae has its claws slicing nicely into a leg. If there was a louder noise than a howl, Jaskier will have created it at that exact moment. Instead he rolls himself around and uses the rest of his claws and his teeth to tear into what he can. Fuck this fucking thing. Next time they say small hunt, it’s going to be a small hunt. Eskel owes him a damn bubble bath.

\--

They end up in a hayloft that night with enough money for when their next stop into town and bandages for Jaskier. Eskel looks like a kicked puppy, wanting affection and wanting to run at the same time. He doesn’t want to be the first one to talk, but Jaskier is too focused on his leg to really focus on a lot else right now to try and start the conversation they need to have.

“This...was a bit of a failure. I’m sorry.” Eskel says roughly, swallowing down a lump in his throat.

Jaskier huffs, patting ineffectually at the sluggish blood coming from his newest wound with a cloth. “I deserve to be pampered in the next city we stop in.” He jokes. It's a deadpan joke, but it is a joke.

Eskel smiles minutely and nods his head. His shoulders are still tense. “I shouldn’t have asked you to distract it. I should have found a different way to get it out. I should have tried to get it out again myself. I should have been able to do it without putting you in harm’s way.” The witcher shakes his head.

Jaskier frowns and raises an eyebrow. “The longer we would have taken, the more dead children we would have brought back...and then they would have been chasing us out instead of “politely” offering us this _very comfy_ hayloft.” 

Eskel just grimaces at that. “I didn’t want you to get hurt again. You keep getting hurt and you weren’t supposed to get hurt on this hunt. This was supposed to be about trust.”

“Well, I still trust you? You got me out of there and you got me away from it. You trusted me to get the beast away from the kids...I mean...mission accomplished?” Jaskier says, tone a little awkward, like he’s waiting for something else. The bard gives Eskel a look and the witcher raises an eyebrow in question.

“Your other form is very pretty. You’re small like that?” Eskel questions softly. Jaskier makes a noise, half-laugh/half-offense.

“I am not small. Thank you. I am plenty big, some may even say above average.”

“Are you sure we’re talking about the same thing, Whirlwind?” Eskel asks teasingly. It’s nice, trying to keep things from straying into the uncomfortable territory of a week prior.

Jaskier looks so damn offended for about 30 seconds that Eskel thinks he might have screwed something up, but then the bard is laughing loudly and shoving at his side.

“So, is it an age thing? Or a you thing?”

“I think it’s a me thing? I’ve been that size since presenting. Small, but not kitten-sized. It sounds weird to refer to myself that way.” Jaskier contemplates it.

“Well, kitten-sized or not...It was pretty. I think I’m a lot less shocked with it now than in the beginning? It’s not so...You’re Jaskier, my bard. The changes are just...a little jarring when they happen?”

“They’re a little painful when they happen.” Jaskier hisses and holds the cloth tighter to his leg. Eskel takes it with a tsk.

“Hand me the waterskin?” Jaskier slides it over to him and Eskel goes about cleaning and wrapping the bard’s leg up. “This is gonna really suck wearing pants over, Jaskier.”

“Why, Darling Witcher, are you insinuating that I should just forgo them?” Jaskier teases.

Eskel goes hot again, but the bard keeps on smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> is there an okay ratio between hunts/fluff/comfort/angst/fighting/and just general becoming more?
> 
> Or do yall think I should add more of something? Opinions?
> 
> What's your Fave trope n genre?
> 
> Whats your fave witcher headcanon?


	10. Soft Winds Blow In The Summertime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short-ish and Sweet, because it's been A DAY.

The next day is a miserable sort. The headman of the village doesn’t want to give them the money owed and Jaskier pulls a dagger out, cranky over the wound he received and over the words thrown in Eskel’s direction. The witcher has to carry him over his shoulder like a sack of agitated snakes after the man practically throws the money at his face and tells them to leave. 

It starts raining a short while later, well, rain is a nice way of putting it, and they’re stuck huddling under the trees at the side of the road. Jaskier, whirlwind of emotion that he is, has already apologized thrice for his behavior, seemingly upset with himself. He’s pushed himself up against Eskel, under the witcher’s cloak like he belongs there. He’s a shivery mess and is leeching the witcher’s heat. It’d be sweet if the rain wasn’t pelting them like it was.

It takes a whole damn hour for the downpour to let up enough that they can get back on their horses. Jaskier’s fingers are icicles and Eskel passes over one of his extra sets of gloves, because naturally the bard doesn’t carry those with him.

‘I spend more time in warmer climates, darling witcher.’ He had said as a way of explanation when asked about it.

Jaskier is frustrated with the weather. Eskel is frustrated with the horses. The horses are frustrated with everything. It’s pretty much a catastrophe, the bard thinks. Rain has never been a friend of his. It gets everywhere and leaves behind a terrible cold and an itch when it dries away. Yuck. The songs people sing about dancing in it are all a disgusting lie. The only time water is okay is when it’s voluntarily ventured into.

He tells Eskel as much when they stop in another miserable little clearing after the water has finally stopped so that they can eat some food. It’s the first time that the witcher has really laughed since the morning and for that small blessing, Jaskier is grateful. They have at least another four hours riding before they hit another town and will probably have to stop and make camp before they even get there. So, yay, wet ground and cold weather. At least he has a witcher to keep him warm.

\--

Traveling on horse with saddlebags that aren’t waterproof apparently leads to half the blankets getting wet, as Jaskier learns the hard way. The duo end up laying one of the saddle blankets on the ground, with numerous apologies to Scorpion, and then putting Eskel’s bedroll over it. On top of that goes on of the less-damn blankets. Sleeping on it isn’t terrible, though they don’t remove the clothing they wear. Jaskier huddles as close as physically possible into the witcher’s warmth. 

If he could, he’d probably climb inside of him. When that thought hits his head, he grimaces and shakes it out. Gross. One of their cloaks and then another blanket gets added on top of that. Sleep _does not_ come quickly for either of them and at some point during the night, Eskel wakes up to a cat on him instead of a bard. He decides that he’s too tired to put thought into it, pets Jaskiers’ animal form and goes back to sleep. He’ll deal with it in the morning.

\--

They ride through 3 more towns and take contracts in 2 of them (drowners and a gravier, which both pay pretty well). In the 3rd, Jaskier is able to start playing again. They spend an evening in the town’s tavern. He plays a new song, about a merciful witcher with amber eyes and remarkable scars, and an impossible wyvern that he fights to the death. It sounds like it’s out of a fairytale. By the end of it the tavern patrons are singing along to the chorus and Jaskier is making good coin. He tells Eskel rather proudly that the song will be a hit across the continent.

Eskel is speechless and hot and watches Jaskier with a sense of wonder. The bard is something else. Dancing and playing for crowds is his element. He acts for them, playing up the tease. A true performance. When he’s done for the night, Jaskier returns to the witcher, sweaty and grinning, looking like the cat that ate the canary. A fitting idiom for the bard.

“What did you think of it all? I know you’ve seen it all before...but, it’s been a while, and my hand’s only just got better…” He’s breathing so heavily and sweats glistening on his upper lip and brow. Eskel’s eyes are caught on that.

“You’re very,” _entrancing, captivating, bewitching_ “electrifying when you’re up there playing.” Jaskier grins even wider, teeth looking a little sharp. If he could look more pleased, he would.

“You say the nicest things. Darling Witcher.” Jaskier steals Eskel’s ale from him and downs it in three swallows before standing to grab 2 more. He is beyond ecstatic that the crowd took so well to his new song, that they didn’t ask for anything about the white wolf, that Eskel liked it-thought it was electrifying. He’s got so many butterflies right now. He’s even had a pretty good handle of his emotions lately. This more than makes up for the rain of the past few days.

When Jaskier returns to the table it’s to see a middle-aged woman talking to Eskel, or trying to anyway. Eskel looks incredibly uncomfortable with what’s happening. He _is_ uncomfortable with what’s happening. The woman has her rather nice assets shown off by her arms pushing them together. Any other time and perhaps Jaskier might admire them. Right now, he’s listening to the woman try to tipsily hold a conversation about Eskel’s “sword fighting skills”. Eskel’s avoidance of her is a little bit amusing...until she runs a hand down his arm and leans in. The bard starts growling quietly, low in his throat and the witcher’s head shoots up to look at him.

He’s grabbing the lute case in one hand, before the woman can even say anything, and then grabbing the bard’s hand in the other, pulling him off and out the door. It’s confusing to hear a growl come from Jaskier in a setting like that. More confusing is the look that Jaskier has on his face, like his vocal chords have betrayed him and he hadn’t meant to do that. He’d sounded threatened, but no one had been in any danger. The bard is still a curiosity and even if the witcher tries to question him, he’s pretty sure he won’t be able to get a real answer this time. He’s not even sure Jaskier will _have_ an answer this time.

“Jaskier…” The singer looks up guiltily and Eskel purses his lips tightly. “Come on. You’re going to play me some more songs in our room. You made enough tonight.”

Jaskier’s face brightens somewhat at the lack of admonishment and he goes to take the case from the witcher, but the brunette holds it out of reach and tugs the bard along by his hand. He can puzzle out Jaskier’s reaction later tonight.

\--

They’ve got a moderately sized room in this inn and their things have been brought in to be reorganized and repaired as needed. Jaskier is ignoring that right now though. Eskel told him to play, and he is going to do so, with absolute delight. He sits the witcher on the bed and orders a soft stay, smile on his face. Eskel hums a laugh and does as told, humoring the bard. The singer pulls the lute to him and sits himself cross-legged on the floor. 

“I know it’s dumb to say, because you won’t, but don’t judge any of it. Some of it’s from my school days.” Jaskier is still cheerful.

“It’s probably a lot better than I could come up with, so-”

Jaskier pouts dramatically. “How about I teach you the art of music and you teach me absolutely _everything_ there is to know about your sword.” He winks at the witcher and sets his hand to the strings.

“The sun is low and the grass is tall  
We're butterflies on a garden wall  
I am she as you are he  
And nowhere will they find us now  
Dream now  
And find you're not dreaming at all  
Reality can cast his net  
Come fly away! We can't let him catch us yet  
We're fireflies heading for the clouds  
To where they'll never find us now  
Dream now

I'm calling your name  
Can you hear me  
So far away from you  
Far from home?“

Jaskier stops strumming after a few seconds to give Eskel a chance to respond. The witcher is leant forward, elbows on his thighs. He can’t tell if Eskel likes the song and the man’s not saying anything. It seems like he did though, if the little uptick of his mouth is anything to go by. It’s not one of his sadder songs, which is why he picked it. He likes the happy mood they’ve had tonight. It feels good and he wants to bottle it up and keep it.

“Another?”

Eskel nods and scoots himself a little closer, almost unconsciously. Jaskier smiles softly.

“Sunshine early morning  
Sun-rays on a frosty morning  
It's time to shine  
Walking on fallen leaves  
No one's sure but she believes  
It's time to shine

Sunshine on a summer's day  
Sunshine take my blues away  
Sunshine make me feel alive  
Sunshine make me wanna live

Sun kissing me on my mind  
Sun, sun kissing me on my mind  
Sun kissing me on my mind  
You're starting to shine

Sunburst it's a brand new sign  
Sun kissing me on my skin  
It's time to shine  
Walking on fallen leaves  
No one's sure but she believes  
It's time to shine

Sunshine on a summer's day  
Sunshine take my blues away  
Sunshine make me feel alive  
Sunshine make me wanna live

Sun kissing me on my mind  
Sun, sun kissing me on my mind  
Sun kissing me on my mind  
Sun, sun kissing me on my mind  
Sun kissing me on my mind  
You're starting to shine  
Starting to shine  
You're starting to shine

I don't wanna lead you on  
I just wanna turn you on  
I don't wanna lead you on  
I just wanna turn you on

Sunshine on a summer's day  
Sunshine took my blues away  
Sunshine make me feel alive  
Sunshine make me wanna live

Sun kissing me on my mind  
Sun, sun kissing me on my mind  
Sun kissing me on my mind

You're starting to shine  
You're starting to shine  
Starting to shine

You're starting to shine  
You're starting to shine  
Starting to shine

You're starting to shine  
You're starting to shine  
Starting to shine."

Eskel's got a soft, slightly soppy little smile on his face and Jaskier can almost feel something suspiciously like a purr starting up in his own chest. The entire time he was with Geralt he kept himself in tight control and the second that Eskel finds out it's like his body decides to completely ignore all that. The bard is something like annoyed and something like pleased. It doesn't seem to annoy the witcher, so that's okay at least, right?

Eskel isn’t focused on the purr from the singer. He’s focused on Jaskier’s face and his hands and his singing. How happy he looks, pleased to be showing off his skills to the witcher. It gives him the fluttery warm feeling again. The soppy smile persists and Eskel’s thoughts start to trail. He doesn’t know if Jaskier realizes the direction they’re headed yet, but they’ve been moving toward his academy for about a week now...and as of, oh about 30 minutes ago, or maybe sometime around the wyvern song, Eskel had made the very rash decision of maybe, possibly, very much wanting to bring the singer home with him.

The bard is oblivious to the inner thoughts of the witcher and sings a few more happy little songs before his throat starts to get a scratch to it. Eskel makes him stop and offers to grab him some water from downstairs. When the 2 end up in bed later, curled together in comfortable intimacy, Eskel is the one to break the peace that’s come over them.

“We’re stopping in Oxenfurt to stock up on supplies before we head to the coast.” He’s rubbing at Jaskier’s back in a circular motion, smoothing over his undershirt and the back of his neck.

Jaskier turns his head so that he can look up at Eskel through his lashes. “Is that an indirect way to say you want to meet my colleagues?” He teases softly, sleepily.

“You talked about your friend...Priscilla. If she’s still there, maybe I could meet her? She sounds important to you.” Eskel tries to keep eye contact with the bard, but Jaskier’s eyes are slowly on their way to shutting. “And then, maybe you can meet some of my family one day.” He tacks on after.

Jaskier makes a barely there assenting noise, but Eskel knows that he didn’t actually hear the last part of the witcher’s statement. He’ll have to try to talk about this another time. Hopefully he won’t lose whatever nerve he’s gained.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dream Now - All About Eve (Very Pretty)
> 
> Shine - Finley Quaye
> 
> I tell you, my dear 2 yr old toddler tricked me into going to feed the chickens with him, so that he could sneak back inside and get onto my computer (He deleted everything I'd written)  
> Later, my dear toddler got himself bit by a spider in the living room. Arm ballooned great big.
> 
> He's a smart little boy...very accident prone too.
> 
> \---
> 
> I got a very nice comment telling me that the creature aspect came a bit out of nowhere and wasn't present enough at the beginning of the fic...so I'm going to go back and try and add a bit to help foreshadow it...I guess that'd be the right word to use? :) I'm glad they made me aware of it. I'd never have noticed otherwise.
> 
> What's a song that screams JASKIER to you?


	11. To Be Wrapped Up In Contentment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Look man, we got a happy Jaskier, and then a hiding Jaskier, a bubbly bath with a very flustered Eskel, a little self harming and a lot of comfort. What more could you ask for?

Jaskier has a cheerful set to his shoulders and a sunny disposition over the next several days' walk, even when they spend their nights camping out under the stars instead of in an inn at one of the little villages they pass by. He hunts in his cat form and willingly lets Eskel watch him. The witcher is mesmerized with the grace of Jasker’s movements. He doesn’t go for any large game, birds and squirrels instead. It’s captivating to watch him jump and climb near vertically up and down the trees to reach the animals he wants to take down. Eskel tells him as such when he shifts back after catching enough for dinner and the bard spends the rest of the night with an elevated heart rate and flushed cheeks. The witcher thinks it might be partly from the exertion of the hunt and partly from his words. It’s a nice look on the bard and Eskel wants to see it on him more often.

Camping is so much nicer when the weather is dry, Jaskier thinks. He gets to pull his lute out and play more music. He hums silly little rhymes to Eskel and on one of the days makes a small attempt to teach him the scales. Eskel tries valiantly, but ends up laughing at his mistakes too much to really call it a success. When they get tired of squirrel, the witcher takes down a small buck and they eat it with foraged vegetables and mushrooms. Jaskier is really happy with how things are going. The trust that Eskel has started to show more of...The trust that he’s been able to give the witcher more of. He’s happy to be taking Eskel back to Oxenfurt. He’s even happier to be taking the witcher to see the coast.

He’s been working on a new song for him, one that’s not finished and is probably a little bit melancholy, but he thinks that his darling witcher will appreciate it all the same. Eskel seems to be pleased with most everything the singer gives him and the longer Jaskier spends with him, the more he’s coming to realize how honest the witcher is with the affection he gives. It’s such a difference from past relationships...and non-relationships that it is a little confounding. The fact that Jaskier gets to give as much affection as he wants back and that Eskel responds so beautifully to it is a wonderful plus.

\--

When they near Oxenfurt, Eskel grows nervous. He doesn’t tell Jaskier this, but how he slows his horse and trails behind the bard says enough. They stop at the nearest tavern and the bard has to forcibly pull the witcher into the establishment. It’s amusing to some of the students that pass them by. They laugh and Jaskier has to shoot them disappointed looks like the proper professor he is. 

“My Sweet, there’s nothing to fear here you know?”

Eskel’s got a look on his face, like he might actually upchuck soon. It’s been a long time since he’s been in a genuine city. He has to remind himself that he’s doing this for his Whirlwind and the fact that the bard has just given him a new nickname helps ease him just barely. 

Jaskier places him in one of the last corners available and goes to fetch them something to eat and drink. The witcher taps on the table and focuses on the music playing, rhythm of his fingers moving to match the song. It’s one of the ‘White Wolf’ songs. He hasn’t heard those in, gods, months? It makes sense that it’d get played here, big city like this. The student that’s playing it doesn’t sound like they’ve ever tried it before, at least...He’s pretty sure they haven’t. It sounds like notes are missing. When Jaskier comes back he’s got the blue hooded scarf he bought in the last village pulled up over his head and the witcher gives him a questioning look. Jaskier purses his lips and sets the food down, immediately going to fidget with his bracelet.

“Nothing, Sweet, I just don’t want any of my students coming to mess with me yet.” It’s a truth, a half-truth, but a truth nonetheless. He’d honestly forgotten about the songs he’d written for Geralt while he’d been with Eskel. No one in the little villages had asked for them.

Eskel watches Jaskier like a hawk watching prey throughout the rest of lunch. The bard continues to spin his bracelet, if he was any stronger, the metal of the charms would probably wear down to nothing. Sometimes his eyes flit to the musician in the corner and sometimes the other patrons. It’s an odd reaction from the bard who had been calm and happy for nearly the entire week until now. It’s disconcerting.

“Is he a student of yours?” Eskel asks between spoonfuls of stew. Jaskier makes a noise that sounds vaguely like a yes.

“Is he playing the song wrong? You keep staring at him like he’s personally wronged you?” Jaskier’s spoon clatters to his bowl loudly and he has a terribly pained look on his face.

“They were taught how to play it correctly. He’s ad libbing.” Jaskier seems so unhappy. He must really take his students' work seriously, but shouldn’t ad libbing please him? Eskel frowns at the thought. Jaskier isn’t the type to go straight by the book. 

The bard’s pushing his food away like he’s lost his hunger and he’s not looking over at the musician anymore.

“Are the people still bothering you at all? I know Oxenfurt is really big-It’s the second largest city in Redania...so it can be a bit much. I didn’t think about that on our way here. I want you to be comfortable here. The academy should be a little less overwhelming for you. My room at least will be. It’s not so loud and isn’t facing toward the main streets or courtyards. My friends shouldn’t be overwhelming either, they’re mostly calmed down in their middle age...mostly.”

Jaskier is rambling on, granted it’s about something he wants to know. He is worried about Eskel and what the witcher is feeling, but a lot of the subject change is to get the attention away from himself. The musician has started on the really petty one he wrote about Yennefer and it’s kind of making the bard’s teeth grind.

“I think we need to bathe and lie down before we go and see any of your friends.” Eskel says pleasantly. A sneaky way to give Jaskier an out of anything more for today. “We smell like the horses...and dirt.” He adds, just to tease him back to happiness or at least out of the mood he’s put himself into.

Jaskier scrunches up his nose in the usual dramatic fashion, worry momentarily forgotten and full attention back on his witcher as it should be. “I forget that you have heightened senses. Are you done eating? I don’t want to smell like horses anymore. It’s probably seeped into my clothes. Oh these poor silks. I’ll have to get rid of them. Do you know how much this fabric cost? I mean, there’s probably more of it to be found here, but that is not the point. I got it in Cintra the last time I visited the court there. It’s a special memory. It took weeks to get the dye right.” He rambles on as he stands up. Eskel chuckles and stands up with him, his own unease completely forgotten in place of Jaskier’s freak out and subsequent calm down. The bard knew how to do that, however unintentionally.

\--

Jaskier wasn’t kidding, Oxenfurt is larger than large and there are a lot of people in it. If he thought the festival had been loud then this was a true cacophony of noises. There were students practicing lines for plays, instruments, and speeches. There were professors out and about, vendors selling everything from swords to fabrics, and tents cooking and selling rare foods. Eskel theorized that when Jaskier was calm again that they'd be out here doing and seeing it all just like the festival.

"I need to see the headmaster to tell him I'm here before we go to my rooms." The bard calls over to him, stretching his arms above his head. Hellebore looks like she’d copy her owner’s actions if she had human arms. The horses are both tired from the ride. Eskel gives a nod and Jaskier leads them in the direction of the stable. About 30 minutes later, laden down with all of their bags, they're walking down the hall toward the headmasters' offices.

"What do you teach when you’re here?" Eskel asks curiously.

Jaskier smiles sweetly. "I got seven liberal arts degrees and then lectured on poetry, musical theory, and philosophy."

"Philosophy? That doesn't really match with the other two though?" Eskel tilts his head to the side and Jaskier thinks he looks like a puppy when he does it.

"Poetry has plenty in common with philosophy."

\--

The talk with the headmaster goes well. Jaskier is greeted with questions about his health and his travels and asked to teach a class or two. The bard says it's a usual thing whenever he returns from “abroad”.

Jaskier shows the witcher to his rooms. Eskel can automatically tell they’re his by the smell and look of it. Nutmeg...and packed beyond full. The bed is double-sized with drapes that look like they were probably added after the singer complained to get them. There are multiple bookshelves stacked full with books, atlases, and knick-knacks from around the continent. Instruments hiding in corners. An ornate wardrobe...that's a little overstuffed with clothing in so many different colors that it’s a literal overwhelming... The desk looks really disorderly, notebooks and ripped up scroll scraps covering it and falling off the edges to the floor in balled up trash heaps. Eskel's eyes roam it with interest before continuing on to the rest of the room. A small connecting bathroom is off through a side door and everything is jewel-toned or rich fabrics, which is such a Jaskier thing that Eskel can't help but smile at it. 

The singer sets all his bags out on the bed without a care, so Eskel does the same. The bard quirks his lips into a tiny smile and places his hands on his hips, relaxed now that they're alone again. He feels a little weird, an extrovert preferring the company of just this one person.

"There's a bath in there. I have more oils and scrubs here, so you don't have to keep smelling like me if you don't want to."

Eskel's face after he says this makes Jaskier pause.

"Do you like smelling like me?"

The witcher wants to fidget, because yes, he really does like it. Jaskier's scent has become really comforting to him since they have started traveling together. Vesemir would be ashamed of him. Lambert would probably laugh. Maybe Geralt would understand? He travels with someone regularly. They have to be a comfort to him.

"It's like a blanket. I like it." He winces after he says it. That's a terrible way to explain it, but the bard grins and does that elevated heart rate thing again and _he_ starts fidgeting.

"Well, then I can get more of it-" He clears his throat, "The trader here makes soaps and stuff like that too, if you want...for when we have to scrub off selkimore guts and nekker blood." A big, sunny smile.

The bard motions for Eskel to take a seat and goes to call for hot water to be brought up for them. When he gets back up to the room he tells Eskel that they really must smell like horse, because the ladies in the lower level told him they weren't going to wash his clothing to get out the stench and he'd have to be taking it out to be laundered. A true travesty.

Water is brought and poured in the tub and Jaskier is bright smiles with the women who do it, spouting poetry and flirting with them like they're young maidens. It makes them titter and blush. It makes Eskel feel something uncomfortable in his chest and stomach. The feeling is replaced with a different one when Jaskier grabs his soap and oils and pulls the witcher into the bathroom with him. He's stripping down to his smallclothes before Eskel can get a word in to stop him. He can't take his eyes off him.

"Are you going to get undressed, Sweet?" Jaskier asks politely, like he isn't even aware of what Eskel is feeling. He probably isn't. He can't hear the witcher's heartbeat or smell him while he’s in this form. Eskel swallows hard and slowly pulls his armour off, fumbling when Jaskier slides into the water with a purr. This is unfair torture. The bard is unnaturally cruel.

Jaskier watches the witcher from his place in the tub. He'd intended for the bath to be a relaxed and innocent sort of thing. They'd given each other plenty of baths and they'd washed in a lot of streams together. Not at the same time, mind, but that shouldn’t make it a problem. You would think with how Eskel was acting that Jaskier planned on taking him to bed after. Jaskier blushed red. This was not the time to be thinking of all that.

Jaskier fidgets and sinks further under the water. If Eskel was anyone else, the bard would think he was flirting right now with the slow strip, but it's Eskel and Eskel is a sweetheart. The witcher steps into the water across from the bard and sighs. 

"Can I heat it up a little more?" Eskel's trying his hardest to make it a little less awkward.

"Igni? I guess it did get colder on the way up." Jaskier smiles, grabbing a clothing and some oil to start wiping himself down. He’s trying hard not to stare straight at Eskel.

The witcher nods and makes the sign. The water grows hot quickly and Jaskier motions with one of his fingers for Eskel to turn around in front of him. The water is almost too hot now and Jaskier is sweating, but it does help to loosen both of their muscles after the long ride. Eskel makes a complicated face and stands in one swift movement, sitting carefully back in front of the singer. This is still too intimate with how Jaskier's legs are bracketing him. They haven't bathed together like this before. His stomach is doing all kinds of squirmy things and the bard is still quietly purring, like he can't turn it off.

Jaskier runs the cloth down over one of Eskels' shoulders, gentle of his scars, even though he knows that it’s only the skin near them that is still sensitive. The witcher can't smell anything but spice. It's relaxing and after a while he hardly notices the warm tingly feeling he's got or what Jaskier's body is doing up against his, focusing completely on the way the bard’s arm moves along his and how the cloth rubs the oil and soap into his skin. The squirmy feeling in his stomach and lower starts to disappear and eventually he just feels...close to the bard. It’s the best he’s ever felt.

Jaskier is content to spend time cleaning off Eskel, touching him and feeling over his scars. He likes getting to touch him like this and likes getting to watch the witcher relax into the touch. Eskel lets him wash his hair out and Jaskier places a barely there kiss right below his ear when running the cloth there. This is soothing. It’s nice not to think about other things. It’s nice not to think about things outside of this best friend. It’s nice to give the overabundance of feelings he has to someone who is willing to appreciate it. Jaskier shifts the burlier form in front of him to lay on Jaskier’s other shoulder rinses through his own hair with the oil. He’s still immensely pleased with the fact that Eskel likes his scent. It’s such a weird thing, but coming from someone with overactive senses like his? It means something.

\--

They stay in the tub well past the point of pruning fingers and Jaskier’s hair drying into damp curls. When Eskel finally forces them out of the tub, it’s to find their belongings still on the bed. The witcher takes one look at them, one at the bard, and then pushes the items to the floor with a whump. They’ve got a whole day tomorrow to deal with organizing their things. Jaskier hardly bothers with drying himself off before pulling the still wet witcher into bed with him. He cuddles as close as physically possible, fingers splayed over Eskel’s chest. He’s gone back to being mostly quiet and a little sad now that they’re no longer squished together in the hot little tub, but that’s alright. Eskier trusts that the bard will speak up when he’s ready to.

\--

Eskel wakes up in the middle of the night to the smell of Jaskier’s blood. The bard is at his desk, scratching away at one of his notebooks, half transformed, claws around his quill digging into his palm. The witcher can’t even tell if he’s doing it on purpose, but he’s up in a flash anyway, ready to stop him from causing himself more harm. They do not need a repeat of last time.

Eskel goes to grasp his hand and gets a snarl and bared fangs for it. That’s not really a great sign. He goes to looking at the chicken scratch on the paper and has to suck in a breath. Jaskier must have been up for a while before he’d started cutting into himself. There are snippets of songs and poetry all over it. Some of it crossed out and some of it with little red drops all over. Most of it is readable. It takes Eskel about 5 minutes to decide whether it’s an invasion of privacy to read it. Is it a bad thing to try to understand? Would it help him get the bard to release the quill and calm down? He’s letting him look at the notebook at least.

The first bit of music is heart-wrenching;

“-Words alone can't make you love me  
But how else am I to say to you  
That I know I will always want you?

Help me, I can't stop myself crying  
Help me, 'cause I feel like I'm dying  
Please can't you stay with me?  
'Cause I can't live without you, my love-”

There’s so many of them and Eskel has to keep shooting looks at the bard that continues to write while the witcher reads.

“Something always brings me back to you  
It never takes too long  
No matter what I say or do  
I'll still feel you here 'till the moment I'm gone  
You hold me without touch  
You keep me without chains  
I never wanted anything so much than to drown in your love  
And not feel your reign  
…  
I live here on my knees as I try to make you see  
That you're everything I think I need here on the ground  
But you're neither friend nor foe though I can't seem to let you go  
The one thing that I still know is that you're keeping me down  
You're keeping me down, eh ooh  
You're on to me, on to me, and all over  
Something always brings me back to you  
It never takes too long”

Eskel makes a wounded noise and Jaskier’s eyes snap up to look at him, a little glassy and very, very wide. These are terrible. Not badly written...but emotionally, holy fuck Jaskier.

“-You're a killer and I'm your best friend  
I think it's unfair, your situation  
You say I'm changing,  
Sorry I didn't know I had to stay the same  
Can we talk about this later?  
Your voice is driving me insane

I try to write you poems, but the words they don't make sense  
The hand tries to grip the pencil, but the fingers are too tense  
I try to show emotion, but my eyes won't seem to wet  
I'd love to tell you stories, but I can't remember how they went-”

The bard is pressing his claws further into his palm now and Eskel can’t handle that on top of the song pieces he just read, so he uses his strength against him and pries the quill from his hand. It goes about as well as anyone would expect. He ends up with gashes in his neck and teeth pressed into his arm when the witcher shifts around to grasp Jaskier in a way that he can’t move any of his body parts except his face. Eskel is a little lost on what to do right now. Jaskier isn’t talking beyond making a warning noise and everything smells like blood instead of nutmeg and it’s overwhelming, because it’s like a switch had been pulled from the very nice time they had been having earlier on.

The closest thing to comfort that Eskel can think to do is to take him into the bathroom and heat the water back up so that the room steams. He doesn’t let go of his shifted bard, but lets the bard claw into him while he pets his head and ears. It’s not the weirdest thing he’s ever done for a friend. Eskel tries humming one of the happy songs that Jaskier has sung to him and when that doesn’t work he hums one that Vesemir had hummed in the kitchens when cooking 5 billion years ago. That one seems to get the bard to unlatch his claws at least. He’s going to have to talk to Jaskier about what sets this off and how to stop the self-harm before it starts...better ways to cope...even if he is a bit of a hypocrite on that front.

Jaskier starts to come back to himself and the first thing he notices is that he isn’t at his desk. The second thing he notices is that he is very much naked and very much bloody. The third thing is that Eskel is holding him rather tightly in his lap. This is not good. The bard doesn’t even bother looking up. He doesn’t need to see the disappointment on the witcher’s face.

“I can shift back…” Eskel’s still running a hand along the base of his ears and Jaskier slumps further into him.

“Welcome back. I need to bandage your hand back up.” Is Eskel’s first reply. He doesn’t stop with the petting and scratching at the base of the singer's ears. Jaskier frowns and nuzzles at his neck, stopping when his face comes back wet and bloody.

“Did...Did I cut you up?” Eskel stops the bard before he can freak out again, locking his arms back in place so he can’t jump out of his lap.

“It’ll heal in a few minutes. Relax, Whirlwind. You got defensive when I took away your quill.”

“My qui-You saw my notebook…” Jaskier sounds more terrified than betrayed and Eskel gives him a face. He doesn't deny the accusation though. Jaskier swallows what feels like a lump the size of Nilfgaard.

“You know, I’m here to talk to, right? I’m your friend. I hear that you’re supposed to be able to confide in friends.” He jokes gently. Jaskier gives a halfhearted smile and hugs his witcher to him.

“Maybe another day? I think I’d just like bandages and cuddles. If you still want to sleep with me.” Jaskier sounds overly tired and hopeful, so Eskel sits him in the chair and goes to get the medical kit. 

At least they went to sleep early and have plenty more time to sleep tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I Will Always Want You - Dusty Springfield
> 
> Gravity - Sara Bareilles
> 
> Be Nice To Me - The Front Bottoms
> 
> ...This chapter started one way yesterday, and then I went and visited my grandparents and had a humongous seizure and felt really terrible this morning...and it ended up going a different direction. ¯\\_(ヅ)_/¯ I wanted fuzzies and then, yeah. So, whump stuff and sad lyric boi. This chapter feels vaguely disjointed?
> 
> And yes, I think Jaskier has depression...not even just after the mountain, but before it too.
> 
> I had to add some new tags.


	12. Wishing On Dandelions All The Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two bbies bopping around Oxenfurt, one pretending not to be dealing with an episode of depression and the other pretending that he isn't watching for signs of it.
> 
> Yep.
> 
> Also, some good old communicating and cuddling, because, yes, they need that.

Jaskier doesn’t seem like a depressive mess over the next day, but when Eskel wakes that morning after the panic attack, everything on the desk has been cleared away and the area around the desk is spotless, free of trash. Jaskier completely ignores any mention that Eskel makes to the bard's freak out. When he does react, it's to kiss Eskel on the cheek tiredly and tell him he is 'fine'. The witcher doesn't believe that is really true, but sometimes it is really hard to delve into Jaskier's mind.

No matter the singer’s attitude that morning, he is still adamant in how they are to dress. For the most part he leaves Eskel to himself, but when the witcher goes to pull on his armour, Jaskier makes a distressed sound and shakes his head.

“You won’t need swords, Darling. No monsters here.” Eskel makes an uneasy face at him, because that will leave him too vulnerable, unable to protect either of them.

“How about daggers instead?” Jaskier offers as a quiet in-between. “If you carry around swords here...Well, let’s say, thanks to that very popular song, people here are not so scared of witchers- but they can get very rowdy and stupid when they see one?” His tone is deeply frustrated.

Eskel can see the logic in it. If a song like that could make people less scared of witchers, make people act more like Jaskier...people that had a tendency toward acts of recklessness, well...That could invite trouble. Still, the thought of not having a sword, when he could potentially need one. The witcher purses his lips and Jaskier gives him a pleading look. Eskel takes off the swords.

Jaskier lets the witcher keep his daggers and then gives him his own as well. He doesn’t want Eskel to feel uncomfortable. He doesn’t want Eskel to feel unprotected. He doesn’t want Eskel to feel unsafe. But if he lets Eskel wear those swords around here, he doesn’t know what will happen. Little villages and hamlets with rowdy townspeople are one thing, big cities with rowdy people that know him are a completely different thing.

The bard has on a smile when they leave their rooms, but it's one of those fragile sorts. The 'any change in emotional climate could set me off' smiles. Eskel has seen what happens to humans on the wrong end of those smiles when Jaskier is feeling particularly savage-Jaskier feeling...however he is right now, that could end so much worse. The witcher is sure to keep a closer eye on the singer than he usually would-purely for everyone else’s sake. When they leave the building Jaskier pulls his hood up. Eskel takes his hand, mostly for both their comfort and partly to keep him in close proximity.

They walk down to the apothecary first. It’s an easy first stop for their first day here. Jaskier gives Eskel a very faint little smile and tells Eskel that he’s never actually been in this one before. They replenish the necessary items for their medical kits and the witcher goes on the search for potion items using his nose. He's thorough and Jaskier admires him from afar as he works through the different roots and magical ingredients. The bard likes watching how careful he is when handling all of the elderly seller’s wares and how warm he can get in a conversation with a stranger when given the chance.

Eskel spends more time than necessary in the apothecary and not everything he buys is meant for witcher potions. He buys some different roots and oils to turn into a salve of sorts for Jaskier, based on advice from the apothecarist. It should, in theory, help to calm him down when his panicking gets to be too much. The witcher wants Jaskier to not have to worry about night terrors or panic attacks. He doesn’t want Jaskier to feel like he needs to try and hide a lot of his emotion away when he slips into unhappiness. 

Jaskier curls their fingers together tightly after Eskel waves a good bye to the gentleman and they leave, comforted by the witcher’s warmth. Thoughts slowly swirl in his head as they move by vendors, mostly just things like how they should have skipped past Oxenfurt and moved straight to the coast. Being here means lying more blatantly and in more ridiculous fashion to Eskel. He isn’t supposed to be hiding things from Eskel. He is supposed to be telling him everything. Jaskier swallows down a lump and can feel Eskel squeeze his fingers and hand right after. The man can probably hear how his heart is beating in a weird double-time right now. What if Eskel felt betrayed when the bard told him. He needs to tell Eskel everything, but is he ready for Eskel to know? Is he ready to tell?

The witcher pulls them in the direction of what smells like a candy cart. It pulls the bard from his spiraling and Jaskier manages a laugh, a small triumph in Eskel's opinion.

"Sugared pecans. You like those a lot." Eskel says when they finally get to standing in front of the seller.

The singer shakes his head. "These." He points to one of the boxes set on the cool side of the cart and the lady hands it over.

"Chocolate strawberries this time, Darling. Have you had one before?"

Eskel shakes his head and Jaskier holds out one of the sticks, strawberries speared on it and covered completely in three kinds of hardened chocolate. The witcher gives him a skeptical look and bites into the closest berry. These taste delicious. How has he never tried anything like them before. Jaskier stands next to him with a slowly widening grin on his face, his own worries vanishing in place of Eskel's so obviously childish joy.

It took time during thejr travels to learn that the witcher had a sweet tooth. He had said it was better on the palate than spicy foods. Eskel eats another one and it is completely possible in that moment that Jaskier giggles, because the fully grown witcher can't get the chocolate from off his bottom lip no matter how he tries to lick at it. It's ridiculous and so very endearing. Another attempt to get it off and Jaskier is sticking out a finger and swiping at the chocolate, licking the chocolate from his finger, and going back to eating his own strawberries, quick and without any thought. Eskel feels his heart rate pick up at Jaskier's touch, eyes zoning in on Jaskier's mouth. Before anything else can begin to react, the witcher crushes the feeling with another bite of chocolate fruit. 

\--

One of the last places they stop at for the day is what Jaskier refers to as 'Ander's'.

'The man who owns it isn't really named Ander. He just disliked his own name. God, I haven't seen him in...10 years. I've been negligent of my visits to him. Perhaps a little rude of me. We were...good friends once?'

They walk into the tailor and seamstress shop and are immediately met by a man who is at least in his 50s, if Eskel is being kindly, and would have had to have been in his 30s, at least, when Jaskier first showed up in Oxenfurt. The witcher gives Jaskier an appraising look at this, but the bard has the 'emotionally-cracking' smile back on again. Eskel turns his attention back to the human. Ander looks flamboyant, more so than even Jaskier is capable of being. He also looks like he is besotted with the bard, what with the way hisexact seems to grow dreamy when he sees Jaskier. Eskel refuses to feel any sort of jealous heat. You don't get jealous of elderly men.

"Ah, Professor Jaskier, my favorite, sweet, young scoundrel. You still remain so youthful. Truly jealous am I...And here with a witcher," the tailor looks Eskel over with a keen, vaguely judging eye, "...but not your w-"

The shifter's eyes narrow and Eskel can hear his heart hit a discordant beat. His scent sours unbearably at the words tumbling theatrically from the tailor’s mouth.

"I need these remade." He holds up the doublet and breeches abruptly, stopping the tailor mid sentence. "I need them done in 2 weeks, Bill and clothing sent to my rooms. Doable?" Jaskier sounds overly testy and Eskel has never seen him act like this with someone undeserving of the behavior before. A friend. The tailor looks ready to say something dramatic and huffy. Eskel coughs out a 'Please?' behind the bard and Jaskier feels a warning growl bubbling out at the witcher. This is stupid. He shouldn't be reacting angrily for something the tailor doesn't understand...or Eskel...Sweet Eskel, he shouldn't be growling at Eskel and feeling threatened by him when someone else starts alluding to Geralt. 

Jaskier sighs and gives his most apologetic face to Ander. "Please, can you have these finished in this fabric in 2 weeks time. I'm terribly sorry for being short with you just now. On my honor, oh how I hope I can be forgiven for this folly. You see, I've been feeling unwell today, Ander dear. Everything seems to be putting me in a mood, you see. My Witcher, poor darling has been dealing with the brunt of my irritation. You know how I can be." Jaskier acts out an apology and bows, growl still quiet in his throat. Eskel has taken a few steps back from him since he started growling and the bard feels even worse. He wants Eskel closer, not further away. Never further away.

The tailor gives an over sympathetic nod in understanding. The growl-y addition to Jaskier's voice makes it sound like he might have a sore throat. To a musician that must be the truest of travesties. "In that case, completely understood Master Jaskier, my darling. Forgiven and forgotten, my sweet troubadour. Do you or Your Witcher need anything else while you're here? I have 3 new seamstresses working with me. They work with precision and are very quick."

Jaskier turns to look back at Eskel, the growl stopping completely when the tailor calls him _his witcher_ , like Ander at least sort of understands. If his ears were out, Eskel thinks they'd be twitching. His mood looks like it has done the whirlwind again, but it also seems like it has been tilted on its axis. The bard is biting his lip in thought, judging colors in his mind. Dskel is in maroon right now. He usually is. Jaskier wants to see him in something different.

“Olive, honey, and amber shirts...Coral would be a fun color to try too. Dark brown linen, cotton, and dark brown leather for breeches. Multiple. As for me...Eskel, Sweet?" Jaskier is staring at him with the first smile he gave the tailor, but it's different...and Eskel knows it's because this one is meant specifically for him. The 'My emotions are wearing down and I'm really fragile. Please.' smile.

"You’re a colorful person...Cornflower like your eyes, blush pinks like your cheeks, peacock teals and burnt oranges, because they delight you. Wine and plum for when we are hunting at night and need to blend in...because you really can't stand black. No leather, because you like how it feels when it touches your skin, but can’t stand wearing it in large quantities, unless it's on your feet?" Eskel offers, eying Jaskier thoughtfully as he says it. Imagining the colors on him. It's easy to imagine Jaskier wearing this stuff when they're on the road.

He's seen the bard in the oranges and teals, even in the occasional bright blue. A blush pink would be beautiful on him. Jaskier's fragile little smile looks watery and the tailor behind him looks like he's swooning. He isn’t really sure what he’s said to cause the reaction on the 2 of them. People that could spin words were much better at finding hidden meaning in things than he was. 

Jaskier nods his head back at the tailor without actually taking his eyes off of the witcher and then walks over to him. He needs to hug the man. Eskel is amazing, and sweet, and delightful. Eskel gives him a nearly amused look when he gets close and Jaskier freezes because he’s purring softly again, but the tailor isn’t paying attention to them anymore, and the witcher is already wrapping him up in his arms...and fuck, he really, really might have more than platonic love or a simple attraction for the man. Double fuck, because he sorely needs to get his head on straight before he tries to delve into anything more with his witcher.

\--

They take food from one of the street carts back up to their rooms. Jaskier sits, back against the headboard of the bed, and Eskel leans back against him, laid between his legs, while they pick at the meal. It's a mostly quiet affair, with Jaskier occasionally humming and Eskel making the odd comment about the spice used until they finish and set the bowls aside. Jaskier crosses his arms around Eskels shoulders and holds the witcher to him, back to stomach, leeching off his comfort and warmth. Eskel said he could talk about things...so he's going to attempt it.

"...As a...Just as an outsider looking in...What do you think of my old companion?"

Eskel makes a distressed noise and goes to look back, but Jaskier forces his head to face forward with his own. The bards' head going to rest at the nape of Eskel's neck. Eskel hadn't been expecting this conversation so fast.

"Just from what I said of him. What do you think...feel?" Jaskier shuts his eyes tight, readying himself.

"I don't know him, but he sounds like a tool." Eskel can say that with no doubts. "Do you want to tell me about him?" He ventures, not entirely sure if he's ready to hear everything beyond what he's already heard. He doesn't want to get angry about a person not here. Doesn't want to scare Jaskier into silence.

"I need to try and talk...or he'll never go away...and I'll never get away...and I'll never get to try to- If we stay just like this, I should be able to talk."

Eskel tries to give a reassuring nod and he can feel Jaskier's weak responding smile, so it must work somewhat.

"He's not human, for an easy start." Jaskier's hands rub the slightest bit where they hug onto him. "He's got enhanced senses… He's a great hunter." Jaskier adds. This is so, so hard.

"He has a lot of trouble with emotion…If what I said before wasn't anything to go by. He drew a short stick with Destiny, or so he thinks, and well... I think he lets himself believe that he doesn't really have emotion, because emotions are hard. Fuck are they hard." Jaskiers fingers prick into claws the smallest bit without him noticing. Eskel thinks the last sentence is less about his ex-friend and more about Jaskier.

"He's lived so long and doesn't really have a lot of family left...or friends. He pushes everybody away, until they leave on their own...or he forces them to." Jaskier's fingers prick a little harder, but he moves his hands away from the spot they'd been in. Eskel moves his hands to hold them in place.

"I really loved him. We went on that first adventure together and it was a thrill...I had to try really hard to hide my shifting ability from him when we got ambushed by elves…" He sidetracks himself. "I assumed he was going to get us out of it...and the asshole deadpan told us we were going to die." Eskel holds a little tighter.

"I insulted them a lot and got hit a lot. There was a lot of threatening my person. I was really stupid and still living under a lot of my families bigoted beliefs about elves, so it was kind of a wake up call to learn the truth about their lives. G- My friend tried to get them to let me go because I was just a bard...He tried to convince them to leave and live...And then he just barred his neck for them like he was completely ready for death."

Jaskier sounds slightly in awe and Eskel feels puzzled. What kind of nonhuman goes and accepts death from elves, just like that, without a fight? Sounds like something Geralt would probably do with how he’s been since that one incident way back when.

"He would take care of me. I mean, I’m completely capable of handling myself, or I would have figured out how to, I’m sure...but when we were out in the open he’d make sure I was safe and that we had food. He wouldn’t really let me help...said I’d probably just ‘sing’ the prey to death….or that my squawking would alert other predators...but he made sure I ate, and he made sure I wasn’t cold. He grumbled about it, but it didn’t _really_ seem like he minded at the time? I think maybe we were...not friends, but...close-ish, he didn’t try to make me leave anymore for a while?”

Jaskier’s claws have retracted and his face is nuzzling, not really focusing on the motion. “It felt like there was caring in the first couple of years. I’m good at working my way into peoples’ lives...and his life was a really hard one. I wanted to give him sunshine. I tried to.” Jaskier paused to really think about it, trying hard not to tear up over anything. “I think underneath all his gruff exterior, that he enjoys being able to care for things? He cares for his horse...you should see him with his horse. Treats her like a queen. Talks to her like she holds every single secret he tells her. It’s the most I ever saw him talk. I think he liked getting to care for me, I was a “young, stupid human” who “would die without me to save your sorry ass.” He mimics the last little bit in gruff imitation. Eskel snorts, because the voice is so different from Jaskier’s warm honeyed tones. “I fell in love with him so easily in the first years. The idea of someone strong like him caring for someone like me.” Jaskier’s eyes widen when he says that because he’d never really thought of his love as just an idea. Twenty-odd years as just an idea was a little too much to really handle the thought of.

The bard takes a deep breath at the base of the witcher’s neck; faint smells of strawberry, chocolate, and nutmeg. Eskel goes a little tense in his hold, but Jaskier lays his head back against his neck and the witcher relaxes. “I think the older I got, the more annoyed he got with me though? He wanted me to fend for myself...but wouldn’t actually let me. Wanted me to hunt and fight, but wouldn’t actually teach me when I asked…” The bard sniffs. It wasn’t a fair thing, not when Jaskier just wanted to please him. Anger over a person’s shortcomings and not helping to correct the shortcomings when they ask for your help.

“Even though we were years into knowing each other, I didn’t really feel like I could show him myself, because any time I’d come close to talking about it...It’s like he was tuning me out? Background noise. Or he was telling me to be quiet or shut up, because I was making a racket? So, I couldn’t really show him that I could use my other form to hunt and fight...so dumb, _human_ bard...fumbling around on dumb, _human_ bard legs after a nonhuman _Wi_ -with increasingly large frustrations at my incapabilities to cope in the wild.” Thinking back on it was hard. It was hard to think about the fact that Geralt probably wouldn’t have accepted him, but that he never got the chance to try and find out if that would have been true.

Eskel rubs a hand along his arm and Jaskier takes a few minutes to just breath, legs adjusting to let the witcher rest more heavily against him. The man goes willingly, not really understanding why Jaskier wants the full weight, but figuring it may be a cat thing. He’ll ask when Jaskier is done unloading this. It’s hard to be quiet. So far everything said isn’t completely horrible, but it also sounds like the beginning of a terrible, abusive relationship? Eskel doesn’t know much of those, but he’s sure of it.

“I told you about that banquet in the beginning. How I needed a bodyguard? I was slightly conniving in that I’d asked him after I’d massaged him and was in the middle of giving him a bath. He told me I wasn’t his friend...Told me he didn’t want anyone needing him or vice versa. I think I really fucked up taking him to this banquet. I should have left him to do as he pleased, like he wanted...but I have a nasty habit of ignoring peoples’ requests sometimes...I’ve been trying really hard to break it. I made him come to this banquet with me…” Jaskier swallows so hard, sticking himself back in the memory, tears pricking at his eyes and claws returning. Eskel makes a sound like he wants to turn and stop him from whatever he’s feeling.

“Queen Calanthe set up this betrothal feast for her daughter. Pavetta, she was so lovely...sad, didn’t want to be there. Ger-Garish of her, but Calanthe invited my friend to sit at the high table with them. I don’t know what happened afterward...I just saw that a knight showed for Pavetta’s hand, a hedgehog knight, and claimed the Law of Surprise.”

Eskel’s whole body stiffened and his heart picked up enough that Jaskier could feel it.

“Darling?”

“I’ll-I’ll tell you, just tell me this first?” Eskel sounds rough and Jaskier wants to stop completely to ease whatever Eskel is suffering from. Whatever the bard caused by his words. The witcher nudges at an arm and Jaskier sighs, kissing behind an ear. The witcher was too selfless.

“Destiny doesn’t care if you’re a queen, or a witcher, or a monster, or a whole army… Calanthe tried to kill the knight after my friend wouldn’t.” Eskel winces. He understood that. “My friend, I think I said...is a believer in “Fuck Destiny.” and he said as much, but when he saved the knight and Pavetta, the knight offered him anything. My friend tried to be ironic and claimed the Law of Surprise.” Jaskier’s head drops against the headboard with a thunk and he closes his eyes tightly. “Pavetta puked all over the floor right after. A Child Surprise. My friend left right after.”

Eskel chokes a cough out and Jaskier leans forward, running a hand down his side. Worry bleeding into everything. “Sweet? Please, what did I say? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-,”

“A Child Surprise.” Eskel is still wheezing a little and Jaskier drops his arm.

“Yes?” That was vague.

“My scars…” Eskel pulls one of Jaskier’s hands up to touch his face and the bard willingly cups the scars tangled along his skin, fingers gentle. “I claimed the Law of Surprise once. I avoided my Child Surprise. Took contracts in places far away from where she was.” It’s all he can really say on the matter at the moment, but it’s enough. Jaskier is a little caught off guard that both Eskel and Geralt would claim the same thing and receive the same thing. It’s like a cruel joke for them both. A twisted joke for Geralt, because he should have known better and he definitely shouldn’t be fucking over Destiny if he already knows what it’s capable of.

Jaskier’s hand continues to run across Eskel’s face and he presses a tiny kiss at the nape of his neck. “Do you want us to keep talking, or...we can stop and head to bed? I think...maybe I’ve talked enough tonight about him? I just needed to get a little off my chest and I do feel somewhat better for it. I think I understand some things better? There is something I need to tell you about him...but I need to tell you all of this first.”

The bard tries to sound confident in his words, but the worry is palpable in his scent. Eskel turns his head and gives a hesitant kiss to the singers’ hand. “We’ve had a long day, Whirlwind. And you can take as long as you need to tell me whatever it is. I won’t leave you...if that’s what has you worried. I told you I wouldn’t leave. I’ll keep telling you if I have to. I’ll tell you the rest of my story too, if it will help you finish yours.”

 _You might leave when you know._ Jaskier smiles softly. So much warmth for his witcher and tries to pull the heavier man up next to him. The witcher lifts himself to Jaskier’s side and the bard throws the blankets over them.

“I forgot the candles.” Jaskier mutters after making himself comfortable. Eskel laughs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's probably some typo/grammar issue in this...I was having some writer's block and trying to bodily kick myself out of it.  
> __
> 
> ~~I wrote a Lambert/Jask creature oneshot. I think I'm going to start that series of creature one shots.~~
> 
> ~~My problem is that they're all going to be rated different things?~~
> 
> ~~The Lambert/Jask one I wrote is E. I just haven't posted it yet, because I don't know if I want to do an each chapter = different story thing, or in separate story but series things~~ Decided (^^)ｂ


	13. A Patient, Peaceful, Joyful Emotion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lecture. A fur run. Meeting Priscilla. And some other stuff.
> 
> Yall, there are spelling and grammar problems I'm sure. Last night and today are going better than the last few have been

Eskel spends the next day watching Jaskier give guest lectures to attentive crowds of students in one of the halls. The bard lets him sit in the back corner, like he’s sure that Eskel probably wouldn’t want to sit anywhere else. The witcher is thankful for it, if only for the fact that a few of his students have given some interested looks, and Eskel isn’t really sure in the idea of talking to any of them. Jaskier seems jittery when he goes to stand in front of everyone. It’s odd and the students seem to think so as well, because they’re quiet when he gets to his desk, whereas Jaskier had told him that they would be loud.

“Fair maidens and young gentlemen, as you can see I have returned to you. This is just an introductory lecture. A few things before I let you grace me with some questions of your own. Please do not interrupt until I’m done.” Jaskiers’ voice sounds like a professor’s should, loud and clear. Direct, but with warmth.

“I know I’ve been travelling again, as I am wont to do. I will certainly tell you all about my newest travels. I will however, not be discussing my old traveling companion. _At all_. Or anything to do with him.” His voice turns a little crisp at the end. Eskel thinks that his friend was probably a _‘Big Deal’_ with Jaskier’s classes. The students seem let down. 

“If my new traveling companion, my sweet witcher, Eskel, is willing to let me divulge...Then I will happily answer questions about the two of us. I shan’t force him to let me though.” Jaskier sends a faint little smile in his direction and Eskel blinks twice, caught off guard. The bard hadn’t said anything about that. The witcher isn’t sure he’s entirely comfortable with Jaskier telling anything about him, but the singer probably wouldn’t answer any heavy questions anyway, so Eskel gives a nod of approval.

“Delightful. Now, the next thing. My old songs. You know the ones. They are off limits. I will go over the ones from this winter and I might be going over a few new ones today if there is time, but I won’t play any of the old ones.” A couple of the women in class sigh in sadness. “I’m sorry, Loves. The memory of those songs is such a sadness to me, that I simply cannot bear to play them right now. My heart cannot take the pain.” Eskel can hear the blatant flirty tone, but also the pained voice under it.

Jaskier claps his hands and students take that as the sign to start asking questions.

“Where’d you find this witcher?”

“...Right to the direct questions, Leofrick. My Sweet and I met in a tiny little tavern in Upper Redania, I believe. Hard to keep track without a map. I saved my darling from a very rude farmer, truly knocked him down for everything he was worth.” Jaskier grins and Eskel thinks back to what really happened, snorting softly. The bard shoots a look over to him, a teasing little look on his face. He knows he’s fabricating too, but the class is eating it up.

“How long have you been traveling together, Master Jaskier?”

“Oh goodness.” Jaskier goes to counting on his fingers in a most dramatic fashion. He’s good at this, acting, but it doesn’t really seem like he’s acting right now. Eskel doesn’t see any sadness while he’s answering these questions. “We met....I’d say almost four whole months ago? Perhaps a bit longer? Time gets funny sometimes.” He winks at Eskel and the witcher smirks, because of course time gets funny with a shifting bard and a witcher that don’t age. Four months, so short...It doesn’t feel like it. Really?

“Have you written anything for him. I know you wrote the one fo- Well, anyway…”

Jaskier’s smell turns the faintest bit sour. “Yes, Theophania, I have written him something. You’ve no doubt heard it already.” He grins big and is fully facing Eskel, ignoring his class for the moment. “One of the first stories My Witcher regaled me with was of a wyvern he hunted. A beautiful tale. I just had to put quill to paper for it.” Jaskier is mooning at him and Eskel feels hot from the attention. “He really is amazing. You should see him when he fights. So skilled and he keeps me safe too.” Jaskier looks so fond. Theophania is cooing to the side of him. Eskel can feel himself squirming, but the bard looks so proud and the sour smell is all covered up in nutmeg. If sunshine had a smell...Jaskier would be drenched in it.

The singer turns back to his class. “Any other questions.”

“Are you still having to walk everywhere? You said last time we saw you that your poor feet were dying...and Gavin tried to tell you to buy more sensible shoes.” There are some laughs to go with the question.

Jaskier looks mildly offended and scoffs haughtily. Eskel chuckles under his breath. Jaskier shoots a smirk his way, like he can hear the laugh. “For your information, I have a beautiful new horse. Absolutely gorgeous...and a fantastic pair of _sensible_ new boots...Because he was right about that. I’m too old not to take advice from young ones like you.” He chuckles. There are gasps from the audience and comedic shakes of heads. His age seems to be an ongoing joke among everyone.

“Now, sadly, our time is up for today, but I’ll be here for the rest of the week. We’ll have a few more serious lectures in the mornings. My Darling and I leave for the coast this weekend.” 

\--

“You smell happier today,” is the first thing Eskel says to him when they leave the hall. Jaskier gives him a confused look, sniffing at his clothing and raising an eyebrow. Eskel smiles at that. “Witcher senses, Whirlwind.”

“Ah, I forget your witcher-yness sometimes. What do I smell like right now?”

 _Good_. “Nutmeg and honey. The spice from your tea this morning. The oil you use on your lute.” Eskel breathes it in. Jaskier is pink when he looks over at him. 

“It’s unfair that you can smell everything and I can only ever smell things on you when I’m shifted. I’d be able to smell more than just our body oil if I changed my shapes.” He says mock-sullenly.

“I don’t like smelling everything around me, but all your other smells besides nutmeg are nice.” Eskel halts his speech awkwardly. Jaskier smiles sweetly.

“That was the most fumbling pick-up line anyone has ever attempted on me, Darling Witcher.” He teases softly, entwining their fingers together. He’s glad that Eskel likes everything he smells like. The oil is expensive and he’s unlikely to stop drinking that tea so it’s a good thing that his witcher is alright with them. It's good. He doesn't want to feel guilty for not stopping.

“...Do you have a good fur trader in this city?” Eskel asks as a thought pops into his head, keeping him from thinking about the ’pick-up line’ comment.

Jaskier’s face turns into a puzzled mess and his head nods slowly in confusion. It was a 180 of the conversation they were just in so Eskel doesn’t blame him.

“There’s one a ways off from here? They sell all sorts? Usually good quality. Do we need to go to one?” Eskel thinks it over for a couple more minutes and nods his head.

“We need to get you a new cloak. It’s getting late in the year and with how the weather is changing…” _And I really want to take you to meet my family._

“Oh. Well, I suppose I need a new jacket. My old one is a little bare. Are we going somewhere terribly cold after the coast?” He doesn’t sound like he knows, but he does sound terribly curious. That childish curiosity he gets sometimes that invites millions of questions. Curiosity killed the cat, and satisfaction brought it back, he’d told the witcher once. Eskel shrugs.

“I’m not sure yet, exactly. It’s better to be prepared isn’t it, “Master Sensible Boots”.” Jaskier stops walking, mouth dropping open and Eskel chuckles at the look on his face.

“Did you just make a joke at my expense? Why Darling, how terrible of you.” Jaskier taps him lightly on the arm and they make their way toward the front hall door. Jaskier doesn’t bother with a hood today.

\--

“We’ll need something durable on the outside...but it’s going to be sheepskin on the inside, so that it’s soft.” Eskel says as they walk up to the small shop. “And if it’s going to be a coat, then a long coat, not a short one. That way if it needs to be used as a blanket, it can be.” Jaskier nods along, but he’s not really paying attention to the coat aspect, more the ‘Where could we possibly be going that requires a fur coat’ aspect.

It’s easy once they get inside to let Eskel pick out the right items. Jaskier trusts him to pick out things the bard will like, he already did it with the fabrics for his clothing, why not with fur too? Besides, even if it wasn’t something the bard ended up liking, a gift from Eskel is special. The witcher grabs three different furs and trades something Jaskier doesn’t see with the man behind the counter, and then they’re off again. It could hardly be considered afternoon yet, so they wind their way back to drop off their things and then they find their way out toward one of the roads with townhouses on either side.

Eskel’s holding his hand again and Jaskier has a pleasant air about him right now. This has been a good day so far.

“You get to meet Priscilla today. She should still be living somewhere around here.” Jaskier says with some excitement and a bit of a skip in his step that would look odd on him if he was what his human age was meant to be. 

Eskel swallows and nods. What if Jaskier’s chosen family isn’t really a fan of him? “Does Priscilla like Witchers?”

Jaskier stops the witcher and turns to look at him, hands coming up to hold his face. He understands the underlying question and worry immediately and he is not having it at all. “My Sweet. Priscilla will love you. She is my friend and she loves everyone I bring her to meet-admittedly few, but that isn’t the point. You are kind, and compassionate, and handsome. A true darling. She will be absolutely besotted, but you’re mine, so it doesn’t really matter on that front.” The bard grabs his hand again and continues to pull him along, completely ignoring the small emotional meltdown that Eskel is going through next to him at his words. God’s, but Jaskier was good at doing that.

\--

Priscilla’s little town house is not over decorated and Jaskier tells him it’s because the musician spends more time traveling abroad than at home. The woman is all cheers and smiles when she opens the doors for them and it seems like every single candle and lantern is lit just for them when they enter.

“Buttercup!” It’s loud and Eskel has to step back just a little bit at the greeting. 

Jaskier is just as loud, “My sweet darling Callonetta. You are still going by that, yes? Oh darling it has been forever.” Eskel is lost behind him as the two hug as tight as they can, like they were more than just friends. It makes that ugly lump settle in his stomach and a growl want to start up, which is ridiculous.

The bard comes back to him and links their arms, giving the woman a bright, sunshine smile and she gives a look between the two. Assessing them. He doesn’t understand why every single person they meet seems to do that. Is it because he’s a witcher? Is it because he’s so different from Jaskier’s last companion?

Jaskier’s scent gets the vaguely sour smell as he looks at Priscilla and raises an eyebrow in what looks like a challenge...and isn’t this his friend? Everyone he’s done this to or gotten like this around has been a friend. “This is _Eskel, My Darling Witcher._ ” Jaskier sounds like he’s waiting for her to make an argument.

She gives a once over of the two of them and flashes a little smile at Jaskier. “The ‘Wyvern Song’? I got a lot of inspiration from it, Buttercup.” Jaskier goes back to smelling of Nutmeg and holy hell, this is the whirlwind all over again.

“So, Eskel, how many taverns have you been to here?” Priscilla asks, grabbing a cloak. Eskel looks between the two and Jaskier gives him a small shrug.

“One, when we got here?” _A lot has been going on._

“Gods, really. Jaskier have you just been keeping the poor man chained to a bed this whole time.”

Both men get completely hot at that and Priscilla laughs and laughs as she pulls the two away from her house and toward the closest tavern. Some place called the ‘The Little Lyre, something both the bards laugh at.

\--

It starts off well. They order ale and sit in a corner. Eskel sits with his back to the wall, able to see the door and everyone around them, Jaskier sits across from him with Priscilla in the middle. The first ale goes down while they talk about useless, small things.

“I visited through one court and ran into a few students of yours that graduated. Doing really well.”

“Oh, I’m so proud of them.”

They hit the second ale and Jaskier is warm. He gives Eskel a smile and then Priscilla a smile.

“Did you know I asked my dear Calllonetta to settle down with me once.”

Eskel chokes hard on his drink and gives Jaskier a questioning look. What?

Priscilla shakes her head hard, waving a hand animatedly at the witcher. “Don't worry Sweet, he's all yours. He told me that I was the only woman who didn’t have brothers try to kill him after spending a night with him, so we should spend our lives together. Quite inebriated at the time.” 

Jaskier pouts and Priscilla presses on. “I told him that when I was forty he’d still look twenty and I just could not cope with that. The Countess De’Stael practically kicked him out for it.” Jaskier looks falsely miserable and Priscilla looks like she might fall over with her laughter.

“My heart was a broken mess when she did that to me and you know that Callonetta, dear.”

“You asked a woman to settle with you based on the fact that her family wouldn’t kill you?” Eskel adds in. It sounded like a Jaskier thing to do, but it was still ridiculous.

“I told you that I was very promiscuous once upon a time...I’m not even allowed in some parts of the continent because of the nobles I’ve slept with.” Jaskier sounds fuzzy and proud.

Eskel doesn’t know whether to smile at how silly this is or be worried at the fact that he’s never been told that little fact.

They hit ale number three and Priscilla starts a story about a recent bard competition. Jaskier looks steadily more red as she talks.

“Buttercup, that bastard came up on the stage in his stupid bright yellow doublet and hideous heeled, purple shoes and waxed poetic about his new song.” Priscilla grabs the shifter seriously by the shoulder and pulls him in, swaying the slightest bit. Eskel is watching this with fascination.

Jaskier looks furious. “What the hell did that scum-sucking fucker do?”

“It was one of your songs, Buttercup! From the winter, he said it was about a countess. That rodent, and the judges just ate it right up.”

Jaskier has a look on his face.

Eskel may regret what he’s about to ask, but then again… “Who?”

“Valdo-fucking-Marx! He keeps stealing my work! My life work, my blood, sweat, and tears. I’d rip his throat to bits. I’d choke him to death with his own lute strings, but I just can’t do that to an instrument.” Jaskier crosses his arm and Priscilla crosses her arms and nods her head in agreement.”

Eskel blinks and gets up to get another trio of drinks. Are all bards feral?

\--

They are a good seven mugs in, when Priscilla requests a song from Jaskier and Jaskier, drunk enough, agrees. Jaskier gives Eskel a big, sunshine smile and a wink, stands up, and goes to talk to the barkeep. He walks over to the bard who currently has the floor, but is drinking and borrows his instrument after a quick request. Priscilla moves closer to the witcher.

“Have you heard him sing when he’s drunk?”

Eskel shakes his head.

“You’ll probably end up in bed with a hot and bothered bard afterward. You can thank me later.” Priscilla giggles in the way most drunkards do. She still has a set idea about them. Eskel’s insides squirm, body on fire-What in the hell is about to happen?

“For my darling.”

“You lift my heart up  
When the rest of me is down  
You, you enchant me, even when you're not around  
If there are boundaries, I will try to knock them down  
I'm latching on babe  
Now I know what I have found  
I feel we're close enough  
I wanna lock in your love  
I think we're close enough  
Could I lock in your love, baby?  
Now I got you in my space  
I won't let go of you  
Got you shackled in my embrace  
I'm latching on to you

Now I got you in my space  
I won't let go of you  
Got you shackled in my embrace  
I'm latching on to you

I'm so encaptured, got me wrapped up in your touch  
Feel so enamored, hold me tight within your clutch  
How do you do it, you got me losing every breath  
What did you give me to make my heart beat out my chest?  
I feel we're close enough  
I wanna lock in your love  
I think we're close enough  
Could I lock in your love, baby?

I feel we're close enough  
I wanna lock in your love  
I think we're close enough  
Could I lock in your love, baby?

Now I got you in my space  
I won't let go of you  
Got you shackled in my embrace  
I'm latching on to you

Now I got you in my space  
I won't let go of you  
Got you shackled in my embrace  
I'm latching on to you

I'm latching on to you (I'm latching on to you)  
I won't let go of you (I won't let go)  
I'm latching on to you (I don't wanna let go)  
I won't let go of you (I won't let go, I won't let go).”

Priscilla whistles and other patrons, students and professors alike are cheering. Eskel is frozen. Jaskier is drunk, that song did not mean anything at all. It definitely wasn’t the sort of song that he was expecting to come out right then, though.  
Eskel is standing up and giving a look to Priscilla who isn’t even there anymore, walking over to one of the patrons she seems to know, sitting down in his lap. Jaskier is walking over to him, a little bit wobbly.

“Did you like it. I hope so. I’ve been working on that for like, a week or something. You’re so sweet, Eskel. Sweet Eskel. Sweet, Sweet Eskel. My Sweet Eskel.” He’s got a hand on Eskel’s scarred cheek and the witcher is pulling him out of the tavern before the bard can do anything else.

\--

The walk back to the rooms turns into carrying a very shifting Jaskier. One second Eskel is carrying a human, the next a half-human, the next a cat. Half the time the bard is a sack of potatoes, waxing poetic about the witcher. Eskel is left tingly and hot the entire time. He isn’t sure how to feel about this entire situation. Jaskier has been drunk before around him...not drunk, drunk obviously...and not ‘comfortable with more than one friend’ drunk. This was new. The song keeps going through his ears. Is the bard even going to remember this come morning?

When they get into the room, Eskel drops Jaskier onto the bed as gently as he can and tries to go about taking off his boots. Jaskier has trouble getting his doublet and shirt off, shifting while pulling off the undershirt and getting his arms stuck completely. He whines loudly.

“Dear Witcher, please help me. I’m too hot.” Eskel has to stay as far back as he can when he peels the shirt off. He leaves the pants on. If Jaskier rips them, he rips them. The bard flops back on a sigh, already going from turned on to tired, and Eskel pulls the blankets over him. 

The witcher's not really sure about whether he wants to cuddle up to him tonight. He really needs to think. Things are a little overwhelming in his head right now. Does the song mean that Jaskier feels for him? They say drunk tongues speak sober truths? It hasn’t been a long time though...and Jaskier is still going through a lot...but he doesn’t really act like Eskel is any kind of rebound? The witcher decides that he needs to discuss this with him soon.

Jaskier curls into the pillow, still half transformed. “‘Skel, please. ‘M cold now, ‘n your’re so hot. Please.” The witcher sighs and climbs into the other side of the bed after taking off his boots, letting the bard curl into him. Jaskier purrs loudly.

“My last friend had eyes a little like yours...Yers er so much m're beautif'l.” It’s a whisper, a mumble, barely even heard with his advanced hearing, but he hears it anyway. What? WHAT? WHAT DOES THAT MEAN, JASKIER?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Latch - Disclosure
> 
> I got really lovely fan art and used it as part of this chapter, cause I'm like that d(-_^)
> 
> Also...Is Eskel getting close to the truth, when do you think he'll find out? Theories for this fic?
> 
> And don't be afraid to write ramble-y comments. I adore them <3


	14. A Whole World In My Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feelings. Feelings. Feelings. Let's talk about feelings.

Jaskier wakes up with a slamming headache in a cold bed. It takes him a few seconds of searching the bed for his wayward witcher before the bard concludes that the man really isn’t in bed with him. He lets out a resigned groan and opens his eyes, turning to the side, only to see the witcher sitting at the writing desk, watching him.

“Hi.” Gods, his voice sounds horrible. Gods, the sun is too bright. He winces.

“How’d you sleep?” Eskel has an awkward sort of look on his face and Jaskier frowns at this.

“I...Okay, I suppose. Like the dead?” What did he say last night? What did he do? Eskel is looking at him like he’s done or said something truly cloddish.

“You know, when we had a conversation about how lightweight you can be sometimes, I didn’t actually think you were serious.” The witcher says it conversationally, but the little furrow he gets between his brows when he’s uncomfortable is there in full force, making this a very obviously not conversational statement.

“What did I do?” Christ, did he talk about Geralt last night? Did he tell him the truth about who Geralt was to him? What had he done? His head hurts so bad. Jaskier rubs a hand to his temple and Eskel holds out a cup full of purple liquid. The bard downs it quickly, not even caring what it could be. It soothes the ache in his head almost instantly.

“...You sang me a song.” The witcher is fidgeting with his shirt and has stopped his eye contact. Jaskier’s eyebrows furrow now. A song? That’s it? What song?

“I sang you a song.” Eskel looks more uncomfortable when he nods his head.

“Yeah, It, uh...I don’t think you remember any of it really, so it’s not a big deal...I just...It was very...You know...Don’t worry about it.” The witcher stands and goes to pull on an overshirt. Jaskier purses his lips and tries to remember what happened the night before.

There are little tidbits here and there. Priscilla making dirty jokes about him and Eskel. Priscilla telling him about Valdo’s pompous ass. Discussing his students and his sexual proclivities. Drinking far too much and grabbing someone else’s instrument. Singing something he’d been working on. Jaskier freezes and drops the little cup to the ground with a ‘thunk’.

“Oh, fuck me.” The bard sucks in a harsh breath and is up out of the bed and over to the witcher in three swift hopping steps. It probably looks ridiculous and fumbling, but they’re the only ones in the room, so who cares? He slams into Eskel’s back when his feet catch in his blanket, and the witcher, in surprise, goes down with an undignified grunt. 

“Ow. That was stupid. Sorry.” The bard wheezes, rolling off and to the side. The witcher makes a noise in agreement and rolls over too.

“Jaskier, are you still drunk?” It’s the only thing that comes close to making sense to Eskel. Who body slams a witcher?

“No. No. I’m eighty-five percent sure I’m not. I wrote a song. And-and I sang it to you.” Eskel tenses up and goes to move away from the bard. This is not a conversation they need to have. This is one that can be completely forgotten. It’s alright. 

Jaskier is doing that pathetic little whine though and grabbing his arm, and Eskel can’t help but lay back against the floor. At least they don’t have to look at each other when Jaskier tells him the song is one of those silly, for the season, not-directed-at-anyone, songs.

The singer’s entwining their fingers together, his other hand playing with them all. It feels like he’s nervous, heartbeat elevated. He smells agitated and wrong under the smell of old sweat and alcohol.

“It wasn’t finished and it wasn’t even written down, just in my head. I don’t even-” He puffs out a breath. “Gods, this is stupid. Stupid. Stupid. I fall so fast. So fast. And you are so sweet, and kind, and just...You’re my friend, my best friend, I think. I’m pretty sure. I hope so. I wrote that song for you, though. And it wasn’t finished-” Jaskier starts babbling along, nerves ticking and hand clenching his. Eskel is very lost with how fast the shifter has started to go.

“It was written for me?” He can’t really think of anything else to ask when trying to cut him off or slow him down. He’s still lost on whether his hopes should be anywhere near up or not. If his own feelings are ready to be admitted out loud and made real. Are they as real as the bards? Are a witcher’s feelings actually real?

“Who else would I-Oh…You think I...For him…” Jaskier starts out indignant, but then his voice turns into that ‘wilted flower’ tone and honestly, Eskel hasn’t even been thinking about that. He still isn’t thinking that. It’s been a while since he’s heard Jaskier sing a love song or a sad song about his old friend, why would he sing a love song about his old friend to Eskel. Even drunk, that isn’t a Jaskier thing to do. So no, he hadn’t thought that of his sweet bard.

When the bard starts to move away from him and let their hands go, smell sour and salty, it is shockingly fast how quickly the witcher pulls him back into a crushing hold. “I didn’t say that.” He’s petting at Jaskier’s hair almost without realizing what he’s doing. “I just...You wrote me a love song, Jaskier.” Eskel sounds apprehensive. “...and I just…”

“I’m sorry...” Jaskier’s heart might be breaking in his chest. He sniffles a little. It’s okay if they just stay friends. It seems like they’re going to stay friends. He can’t lose Eskel.

“Jaskier.” The bard can hear the frown in the witcher’s voice and burrows further into his side. “You are much better at words than I am. You know that, right? It’s your life. I think you called it something like ‘your life’s work’.’Your blood, sweat, and tears’, last night.” Yes, that does sound like something he would spout off. “I can be really terrible at trying to get words out sometimes.” Eskel scratches at his neck with his other hand. Jaskier nods. Yes, that’s true. It seems to be a common trait among witchers. He isn’t sure where Eskel is going with this though.

“I don’t really know how...You’re just...There are so many feelings for you and,” It’s Eskel’s turn to huff out a loud breath. Why is this so hard? Jaskier tightens the hold around him. “I don’t know how to deal with all the feelings. I don’t know if I deserve all the feelings.” It’s as close as he can get to admitting to anything right now. He could try, but…

The shifter chances a look up at the witcher and gods, they’re both a bunch of imbeciles in this. Eskel looks like...Well, it must not be bad, the feelings he is having, but he still looks like he is going to die dealing with them. Jaskier lets out a deep, deep breath. _Ridiculous witchers and their ridiculous constipated emotions and emotionally-stunted upbringings. Ridiculous bards and their ridiculous, stupid hearts that jump to terrible conclusions too quickly._

“You deserve everything, Eskel.” The witcher makes a wounded sound and Jaskier shakes his head, rubbing it against his chest. “You don’t need to talk about your feelings right now. You don’t. I know you like me at least. I’m pretty sure you do. Obviously, you know my feelings too. Just, you deserve everything.”

Gods, this is a trying conversation for whatever-time-O-clock it is, when he’s wearing old clothes and smells like old ale.

“Try not to let your witcher upbringing make you think you don’t...and I’ll try not to let my upbringing and recent past make me think I don’t?” A compromise. The oddest compromise over feelings that Jaskier has ever had to come up with.

Eskel grunts, like he just can’t discuss anymore on the topic and Jaskier pulls himself from the witcher’s embrace. He tries to hold him there, but the bard shakes his head, placing a quick kiss to Eskel’s cheek. “Not to end the conversation we were having, but I know you can smell me, because I can smell me and I smell terrible. Do you want to take a bath with me?”

Normal ground for them. An apprehensive smile appears on the witcher’s face.

“It’s not the greatest smell you’ve worn...Maybe worse than the bruxa.”

Jaskier gasps, obviously fake chagrin showing in his face and stance.

\--

“Have a good evening Master Jaskier?” The bard, dressed in teal, turns toward the boy in the front row and gives a faint smile.

“As pleasant an evening as you had, I’m sure Bertram. Is your lady love still rebuffing your affection?” Jaskier is so tired. He wants to take the witcher, currently sitting in the corner, back to bed for a nap. He should not have drank with Priscilla last night. True, feelings were finally talked about, but that isn’t the point.

“With the song I heard last night, I’m sure she’ll no longer do such a thing.” Bertram has this rather amused look on his face, as do a few others...and oh, a lot more than just a few. Fantastic.The bard smiles..

“The Little Lyre is quite a wonderful place for entertainment. Is it not?”

“Oh yes, Master Jaskier. Dameta and I were there last night and we saw you and Your Witcher.” A girl from a row or two back pipes up. Jaskier just wants to go back to bed.

“You were very...Rosy.” A helpful addition from Theophania. Jaskier wants to groan. Eskel wants to laugh, because yes, Jaskier had looked rather...rosy.

“You have a lovely voice when you drink. Really must teach us how you do it, so we don’t embarrass ourselves at court.” The bard can hear the grin in Bertram’s voice even when he’s not looking at him. Eskel really does laugh at this. “Not to joke with you though, Professor. It was a lovely song. I hope you’ll teach it to us.” Bertram sounds terribly hopeful. Jaskier hates that he’ll have to burst the poor lads bubble.

“Dear Sirs and Young Madams, I had not intended that song for the ears of crowds. It was only meant for one. I am afraid my drink got away from me and I made quite a tactical error.” He tries to sound as contrite as possible. He wants to go back to sleep. “It is not a song I will be teaching you, I do apologize. I have other songs along the same vein though, if you are in need of one to woo a lady...or a lordly love?” Another compromise for his day.

Bertram is let down until Jaskier says he’ll give them a different song, then it is smiles from everyone in the class. Eskel watches attentively as the bard leads them through three different love songs and two different songs about the coming autumn. He hadn’t realized quite how much work really went into music and instrument work. Jaskier’s students seem like quick studies...or Jaskier is a fantastic teacher, one of the two. Eskel prefers the latter.

When the class finishes and everyone has left, Jaskier slumps down next to the witcher and practically flops half of himself on top of the man. “I’m tired, Darlin’.”

They’re being as touchy as they’ve always been. A good thing, because Jaskier isn’t sure he could completely stop himself and Eskel is sure if they did stop that it would leave his emotions completely scrambled.

“You stayed up late. Drank a lot. _Shifted._ A lot. And then, when you got up, you decided after a bath which you almost fell asleep in, to come and do your guest lecture...your two-hour guest lecture. Of course you’re tired, Whirlwind.” The witcher pets the back of his head softly. 

“Are we doing anything else today? I’m too old for all this. My bones are decrepit and my joints just aren’t what they used to be. Everything is tired.” Eskel snorts at the dramatics of it all, the noise and shift of his body enough to jolt Jaskier from his positioning.

“If you’re old and decrepit, I’m ancient and practically dust. We can go take a nap. When you meet Lambert, remind me not to let you drink with him.” 

Jaskier gives him a put-upon sigh and they trudge back up to their rooms. “When I meet Lambert?”

\--

They sleep for a few hours, scratch that, Jaskier sleeps for a few hours. Eskel sleeps for an hour and spends the other two running his hand through the bard’s hair, thinking. There are so many thoughts and feelings running through his head and he’s not entirely sure how to get them out. It’s overwhelming. It makes his skin itch with pent-up energy the more he thinks about everything. 

Jaskier had said he deserved everything and to not let himself believe he didn’t.The problem with the thought is that while it’s easy to say he deserves it all...It’s not as easy to truly, honestly believe it. Eskel believes that Jaskier deserves it all. The amount of love the bard has in his heart for everything around him is proof enough of that. A witcher like him though, one who has seen, and done, and been through things like him? Does he really? Does he deserve Jaskier and Jaskier’s love? Is it even fair of him to invite Jaskier into every one of his faults and mistakes? To let the bard become a part of every one of his mishaps? The singer seems to want to want to be a part of it all...but, isn’t it selfish?

Jaskier nuzzles in closer and wraps himself more securely to the witcher, hand grasping at the medallion and necklace on Eskel’s chest. Eskel’s hand moves to rub at the bard’s neck soothingly. Is it more selfish to deny Jaskier’s love? It is selfish to deny the singer’s love. It’s selfish to deny something when he feels the same, just feels so many other things too. He’s scared. The idea of a witcher being afraid makes Eskel want to laugh, but it’s the truth. He’s scared that Jaskier will disappear. That once they’ve admitted everything to each other, something will come along and snatch the bard away from him. He is selfish for wanting to keep the man to himself.

Eskel’s fingers tighten around Jaskier’s neck at the thoughts and the bard lets out a quiet little moan. The unintentional bolt of desire that comes from the noise shoots through his mind and causes him to let go and look down. Jaskier is still asleep. Well. Okay. Well. Awkward. Okay. His thoughts turn to safer grounds and his hand moves to the bard’s shoulder. Jaskier shifts closer so his leg tangles between Eskel’s. He is definitely not going to mention this at all.

What would his brothers think of this? If Eskel were to bring home a shifter, it wouldn’t be any different than Geralt and his mage would it?. Not really. Does he really care if they would react badly? Eskel taps his fingers gently on the bard’s shoulder while he thinks about that. It’s a difficult question. He isn’t sure how to really think through those feelings. He knows that they wouldn’t really stay angry with him, even if it would hurt for them to dislike his choices. It would hurt more if they treated Jaskier badly. The bard could probably handle it on a physical level...but on an emotional...

Jaskier startles awake at a particularly hard tap and blinks blearily at the witcher. “Are you okay?”

“I didn’t mean to wake you up.” The witcher gives a guilty smile. “Trying to think through feelings.”

Jaskier waves away the half-apology and perks up at the second half of the explanation. “What do you usually do when you try and think through your feelings?”

“...Fighting? Releases the tension, clears the mind up?” 

The bard snorts a laugh and nods his head some.“Yes. That does make sense. I’ve seen meditation work for it too.” He offers up curiously when he finishes his laughter.

“Meditation works for some people...I’ve never been very good at it.”

“I’m not a skilled fighter, but I could give you a good chase if we went far enough out for me to shift a little?” Jaskier offers cautiously. He’s never actually played chase with a witcher. He played chase once with Priscilla, in his full form...but a witcher, in half form?

Eskel sits up, leaning against the headboard and thinking over the offer. It isn’t fighting and he wouldn’t be hurting the bard. It would get rid of all the outside tension he has and probably help him to focus. It would probably be fun to chase him. The idea of chasing Jaskier as prey...is interesting.

“When it’s dark out? I’m not keen to be contracted to kill a cat shifter around here.”

Jaskier beams at him and Eskel just has to give him a smile back when he gets that reaction. Chasing. Chasing is a good idea. It will do them both good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ya'll...You guys...My bros...My bois...You were supposed to wait until the coast to speak your feelings. You know this right? Nothing goes to plan. My goodness gracious.  
> 
> 
> I promise this chapter was meant to be longer, but...yeah.
> 
> If Jaskier and Eskel were Disney songs, who would they be? And I don’t even mean like a couple song...though that too...Just any Disney song from any character? What songs are they?


	15. No More Worries, No More Fears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's play Chase.

Tension is a little high for the rest of the afternoon. Jaskier spends a lot of it writing down lyrics, and Eskel spends a lot of the time watching him while sharpening up his swords. It’s hard for Jaskier to keep a focus on his words, rhymes coming out flowery, fiery, or fervid. He’s used to being watched by the witcher, but this is different, like Eskel is cataloguing all of him for later. 

_‘boy can I tell you a wonderful thing?  
I can't help but notice you staring at me  
I know I shouldn't say this, but I really believe  
I can tell by your eyes that you're in love with me.’_

“No.”

_‘It was no accident me finding you  
Someone had a hand in it  
Long before we ever knew  
Now I just can't believe you're in my life  
Heaven's smilin' down on me  
As I look at you tonight.’_

“No.”

_‘Cause I wanna wrap you up  
Wanna kiss your lips  
I wanna make you feel wanted  
And I wanna call you mine  
Wanna hold your hand forever  
And never let you forget it  
Yeah, I, I wanna make you feel wanted.’_

“No.”

_‘Darling look at me  
I've fallen like a fool for you  
Darling can't you see  
I'd do anything you want me to  
I tell myself I'm in too deep  
Then I fall a little farther  
Every time you look at me.’_

Jaskier gives a loud huff of frustration and turns to look at the witcher. “Care for a walk?” He asks it as nonchalantly as possible, small smile in place. Eskel snaps to attention and nods, doing his best to keep out of his head and away from tumultuous feelings and thoughts of later.

“A walk sounds nice.” He sounds hoarse. Jaskier would laugh at that, except that he understands the feeling.

“We could go a different route from the square...and then we could take the horses out to one of the taverns by the border?” The bard questions, smiling a little brighter. Eskel looks like he could start fidgeting at any moment. Jaskier thinks he could too.

“Yeah, yes. Alright, lead the way, Whirlwind.”

“You have to put your whetstone and sword away first, Darling.”

\--

It’s an odd sort of buzz, waiting for the chance to play a children’s game when trying to focus on food. They’re eating at a tavern close to the border of the city with Priscilla and hardly drinking anything. She notices the energy right away, a salacious sort of look passing over her face.

“Any torrid plans for the night, Buttercup?” Eskel knows not all women are meant to be lady-like...but Priscilla... The way she asks that question, you would think ‘lady-like’ wasn’t a part of her vocabulary at all.

Jaskier gives her a sunny sort of smile, like he doesn’t actually realize what Priscilla could mean with her question and nods his head fervently. “Oh yes, Eskel, My Sweet, has a truly sublime contract.”

Priscilla perks up at this and Eskel shoots him a look. “Really, _do tell_.” 

The witcher can’t tell if the look on her face is more interest in there being a real contract or interest in what Jaskier could actually mean behind his words.

“Oh yes, a wild cat seems to be on the loose. He should have quite a time hunting it down in the forest this evening. It’ll make for an excellent song. I’d call it ‘The Wolf and The Wild Cat’.”

Eskel eyes narrow, assessing. Jaskier wouldn’t really turn this into a song would he? Priscilla seems thrilled with what she’s heard though, so the witcher says nothing on it.

“‘The Wolf and The Wild Cat’. A very nice ring to it, Buttercup. Almost sounds romantic...or well, you know.” The woman says in praise.

Jaskier flashes a winning smile to the both of them. “Yes, I dare say it would make for quite a charming little tune, though I think it’s one I’d keep for myself.” His eyes lock on Eskel and the smile turns softer. Priscilla’s look turns soft too as she looks between the both of them.

“You’re going to write a song about this?” Eskel asks suddenly, completely confused as to the shift from dirty to musical to sweet that the two have gone through in their talk.

“Mmm...I’m not sure yet, Darling. If I did, I wouldn’t sing it to a tavern drunkenly. You needn’t worry about that.” Jaskier says sheepishly, cheeks tinting a pretty pink. Priscilla laughs quietly behind a hand.

“It was quite a beautiful song, Buttercup. I’m sure that he loved it.”

“It...I did. His voice is lovely...and it was...very enlightening.” Eskel has the squirmy feeling in his stomach and isn’t sure if he should look at Priscilla or Jaskier when he says that.

“I’m sure it was “enlightening”.” Priscilla laughs loudly. “Very, very “enlightening”.” Jaskier coughs into a hand, cheeks turning darker and heart picking up speed, but he doesn’t reply to Priscilla’s ribbing.

“Darling, I seem to have left a gift for Priscilla in Hellebores’ saddlebag. I’ll be back in just a moment.” The man is up and moving out the door before the witcher can say anything, running a hand along his shoulders as he goes. Eskel’s skin burns at the touch.

“...A contract, dear witcher.” Priscilla is smirking as she turns to look at the witcher after Jaskier goes, scooting her chair closer, her words a callback to the beginning of their conversation. A knowing glint is in her eyes.

“A children’s game.” Eskel offers up, hand going to his neck to rub awkwardly.

“Mmm...The bard who sings you love songs wants you to chase after him?” Priscilla says thoughtfully. The witcher swallows hard and shakes his head at the thought, because no, it isn’t what she’s implying. This is just Jaskier helping him to release energy so he can think properly and categorize all his feelings calmly.

“He’s never had anyone chase after him before, always the one chasing after everyone else. He loves easily, you know? Gets his heart broken far easier. He’s a doll yet no one truly sees it and then when they tire of him, they leave him behind.” She purses her lips up and taps on the bottom one with a finger, eyes sad. “...Are you sure it’s a children’s game. Are you really sure, dear witcher? Chasing someone to prove your feelings true. There’s so many metaphors to be had in that. A great song even. Buttercup won’t mind if I take inspiration from it, I’m sure.”

That isn’t what this is. That isn’t what this is. This is just supposed to be a way for him to burn energy and clear his mind. Priscilla lets out a huff at his expense, like she’s watching his thoughts as they come to him.

“My, he sure has been out there for a long time. I hope he’s alright.” The woman switches the subject, eyes darting to the door, waiting patiently for something. It _has_ been a long time for Jaskier to simply be grabbing something from a saddlebag.

It clicks quite suddenly for him and Eskel swears under his breath. The bard is a cheater. They hadn’t talked about Jaskier getting an advantage in the beginning. Priscilla actually has the gall to laugh at him when he stands up to rush out of the room, sending an apologetic and slightly frustrated look her way. Bards.

\--

Jaskier is shifted and through the brush almost seconds after pulling off his clothing. His one recurring thought is to get enough of a head start between him and Eskel, so that the witcher will get at least some thrill out of this chase. The bard zig-zags through trees, rubbing against a few to leave his scent, before moving on in the opposite direction. His heart is racing in his chest as he jumps fallen branches and skids through a stream, sliding along the wet rocks as he goes.

It’s when he stops to catch his breath that he can hear the second heart beat, slower than a humans’, but picking up as the person moves. He loops past a few more trees and under some undergrowth, rubbing everywhere he can, stamping over his own tracks twice, just to cause confusion. When he hears Eskel get too close he doubles back and moves to the east. Eskel is fast. Very fast. His heartbeat is so loud in Jaskier’s ears right now that it sounds like he’s almost upon him.

Jaskier scales the closest tree and whispers a laugh when he watches the witcher move in a different direction, following one of his other trails. This is thrilling. He’s never had fun like this before. The bard takes off through the trees in the opposite direction of the witcher, doing his best to be quiet as he goes, when one of the smaller branches he uses as a handhold, snaps and falls as he jumps past it. The branch hits the ground and Jaskier mutters out a ‘shit’ when he hears Eskel come to a skidding halt. _Probably to check his surroundings._ His mind says unhelpfully. Jaskier moves faster.

Eskel doubles back when he hears the branch snap and then the muttering. Of course it would make sense for the shifter to pick the trees to start moving through. Of course _Jaskier_ would pick the trees to move through, the tease that he is. His whole body is sparking with adrenaline and focusing completely on his objective right now. Find the bard and Catch him. It’s exhilarating chasing something he doesn’t have to kill. _Chasing Jaskier_. The bard moves much faster than he gives him credit for. Eskel stoops low when he gets close to the fallen branch and then looks around, trying to decipher between foliage and fur. He can’t have gotten far. His heartbeat is so close, erratic and his smell is intense, excitement and happiness. Childish joy...and well, other very interesting things. It’s a heady mix. The witcher’s head snaps up and to the left when he hears a muffled laugh and he’s running full speed toward a tree, grabbing onto a low hanging branch to pull himself up into a climb.

The surprised squeak that comes from up high is almost gratifying...The rustle of leaves from Jaskier jumping to the next tree, not so gratifying. Eskel growls, low in his chest, and the bard’s scent spikes. Gods. He follows, jumping to the next tree, not near as gracefully as the shifter, and Jaskier jumps again. He’s fluid in his movements, tail a counterbalance to the crouch he ends up in. It’s beautiful to watch. Jaskier goes to jump again, changing his mind at the last second and running himself in an almost vertical fashion down the tree instead. Eskel spares a moment stuck on this before he’s pouncing from his position, catching the bard in a roll. Jaskier hits the forest floor with a soft ‘oof’, the witcher trying to keep most of his own weight in the fall. They’re both breathing heavy when they finally stop. Jaskier with leaves and twigs stuck in his fur and tail is giving him a grin in between each panting breath..

“Fun?” It’s the only word he can get out at the moment. 

Eskel’s not speaking, just looking at him with wide eyes. 

Jaskier is wonderful. Wonderful for having the idea to do this and wonderful for letting him do this. Wonderful to be around. Wonderful to talk to. Wonderful to look at. Wonderful. His words are running around the witcher’s head again. To not let his upbringing make him think he doesn’t deserve everything. Jaskier said he deserved everything. Priscilla’s words run through his head. Jaskier has never been chased after before. Chasing after someone to prove your feelings true.

Eskel jolts into an upright position and Jaskier soon follows, looking and smelling worried.

“Eskel?” Gods, he even sounds worried for him. His bard. Why is he letting all these stupid thoughts get in his head and complicate everything. It feels like it’s too soon, but...Jaskier is here now and it doesn’t sound like he’s leaving. If he does deserve everything, then he will fight to keep the bard if someone ever tries to take him away. 

Jaskier presses a hand to his shoulder, touches light and tries to get a good read on what’s happening. It’s hard with how the witcher seems stuck in his head all of the sudden. Eskel smells good, but he looks lost. Was the chase a bad idea? Did he just confuse him more? “Eskel? Darling? Sweet?”

“I think I really, really like you.”

...Oh _Oh._ thank the gods.

Jaskier’s grin could replace the sun when Eskel turns to look at him and isn’t that delightful? His hand is still on Eskel’s shoulder, a firmer hold than before and he doesn’t even seem to realize it, focus staying completely on Eskel’s face. The witcher feels warm and fuzzy...and maybe a little embarrassed. The feelings don’t disappear and feel like they heighten when Jaskier leans forward, hand moving to press against his scarred cheek, and lips pressing against his in a short chaste kiss.

“I really, really, really like you too, Darling mine.” It’s said so adoringly that Eskel isn’t sure what to do, but lean forward and press his own gentle kiss on Jaskier’s lips.

Chase was such a good idea.

\--

It is very late when they make it back to the edge of the forest after Jaskier finds his clothing. It took forever to get all of the bits and pieces of tree and grass off of him. He had laughed the entire time, placing tiny happy little kisses on the witcher face as Eskel pulled random twigs off his shoulders and ears. 

“We need to do this again sometime. I’ve never done that before.” Jaskier says with a bounce in his step.

Eskel is still a little stuck on his words, just stuck on everything in general. He knows he has a smile on his face and his hand wrapped around the skipping bard’s. Jaskier doesn’t really seem to mind him being silent though, as he continues to talk. It’s nice to be able to listen to him. It’s nice to relax after admitting something big like that.

“...We could play again when we leave. Oh, or when we get to the coast? That could be fun. Plenty of places around there I’m sure. I could hear your heartbeat when I was shifted like that. I forgot how much more elevated they get when you run...Barely above a human’s for a witcher, really, but only because they’re so slow to begin with. It’s fascinating. God, you smelled so nice too. I hardly ever get to just enhance my senses like that. 10/10 want to do it again.”

Jaskier is going a mile a minute and humming in between sentences like he’s trying to figure out a melody for a new song. Eskel gives half a thought to Jaskier knowing so much about witcher heart beats and ultimately chalks it up to cuddling with him so often. The humming seems to hit a melody the singer likes and Eskel smiles at that. 

“What’s on your mind?” Jaskier’s voice sounds fond when he asks that.

“Nothing...You sound like you’re already trying to compose this new song of yours.” He pauses and gives himself a second to think. “When you suggested ‘Chase’, I wasn’t really expecting to just have my feelings come out like that.”

Jaskier stops skipping and turns to give him his full attention, face going a little serious. “Darling mine, I said I was going to help you think through your feelings and try to release some tension. I’ll assume that you're telling me that is because I helped in some way?”

Eskel gives a half-nod. “It is. I just wasn’t expecting that to be what came out of the game. I’m happy about it. I’m just...shocked, too?” Jaskier lifts their hands to press a kiss to his knuckles and then goes back to his skipping steps.

“Well, it’s alright to be shocked. At least now you’ll be able to talk about it and not have it rattle around and causing you unnecessary stress? You won’t have a chance to destroy it before it can become something, because I already know now...and you won’t have to worry about what I’m feeling over it either. We can work together on our feelings. We can try and help each other with our feelings. Yes?”

It makes logical sense and helps to put the witcher somewhat at ease. He’s put even more at ease when they make it back to the tavern and don’t have to face Priscilla’s knowing looks for the night. It would be a little too much for one day to admit feelings and then admit them again to someone else.

Jaskier gives him a soft kiss on his cheek and moves away to climb onto his horse. “Next time we do that, I’m bringing more comfortable clothing to change into afterwards. These got dirt all over them somehow. Silk like this isn’t meant for dirt.” He says offhandedly as Eskel climbs onto Scorpion. Of course the bard would complain over his clothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Terrible Things - Mayday Parade  
> The Keeper Of The Stars - Tracy Byrd  
> Wanted - Hunter Hayes  
> Look At Me - Carrie Underwood  
> \--  
> So, are the 3000-wordish chapters okay for you guys? Do you wish for longer. They would take longer to write, possibly.  
>  ****  
> I want to write a fic with Jaskier/Geralt and Throne by Bring Me The Horizon as the inspiration.  
> 


	16. Fearfully And Wonderfully Made

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eskel angsts. Jaskier comforts.

Jaskier jolts awake far too early in the morning when a large hand connects with his face. It makes his teeth clack harshly and his skin burn, nose bleed red. With one hand to his cheek and one to his nose, he starts assessing his surroundings. Instruments. Desk. Plush bed. Witcher. _Flailing Witcher_. _Flailing, groaning witcher_. What is going on? The bard leans a little closer to Eskel, a somewhat safe-ish distance away, and finds him asleep, face scrunched up terribly with sweat trickling down his forehead and mouth open in what is probably meant to be shouting of some sort. His arms flail out again and then his legs do too. Jaskier hasn’t ever been awake for one of Eskel’s nightmares and the one time he woke up after the witcher had had one, the man had brushed off Jaskier’s help with a look of utter dejection and left for what felt like ages to do who knows what. 

The singer can’t stop the flailing and can’t wake him up. Eskel is too strong and if he wakes him up, he’s sure that he’d be run through with some sort of makeshift weapon...or knocked into next month. The evidence is clear on Jaskier’s bloody and bruised face of what can happen when Eskel isn’t fully aware of himself. He can’t really do anything for him though and the thought of that makes the shifter want to cry. It’s not fair that he can’t help his darling like the man always helps him. The bard gives himself a chance to sigh and to wipe away some tears that have fallen loose, climbingabout of bed and away from the witcher. Eskel will be upset in the morning if he wakes up and sees Jaskier bruised and battered because of him.

Eskel’s nightmare looks terrible and Jaskier can only wonder what it’s about. Childhood? His trials? A bad hunt? His Surprise? ...Their feelings? The possibilities are so endless. It leaves the bard tearing up more without even meaning to. He looks like he’s in pain. So much pain. Jaskier has to leave the room before he does something stupid like try to hold him down. He takes several minutes in the washroom to get his composure and check over his jaw, nose, and chin. Bruised, very bruised, but not broken. Bleeding, but slowly dripping to a stop. There is a salve somewhere in their luggage to help with that. When he’s calmer he fills a pitcher and bowl with cool water and grabs a cloth. If he can’t wake his witcher, then he’s at least going to take care of him afterward.

\--

'It's not the pale moon that excites me  
That thrills and delights me  
Oh no, it's just the nearness of you

It’s a fog inside Eskel’s head, some fuzzy melody in the background, but all he can focus on is what's happening now. Stuck on the freezing cold wooden table. Strapped down with heavy leather, unable to move at all. Being talked down to like he’s some sort of child. Unable to even turn his head. Poked and prodded with metal spikes. Vials of unnatural colored liquid. Disgusting chemical smells. And then Pain. Pain. PAIN. SEARING PAIN.

‘It isn't your sweet conversation  
That brings this sensation  
Oh no, it's just the nearness of you’

And then it isn’t him on the table, it’s his bard. His Jaskier. His Jaskier strapped down, half-transformed, in silver binds. Burning, Sizzling. Bloody. His mentors are nowhere to be seen. It’s just him with his silver sword and silver spikes. Cutting and pressing metal to every piece of bare skin he can reach. Jaskier screams murder and curses his name over and over again. All he does is smile.

‘When you're in my arms  
And I feel you so close to me  
All my wildest dreams came true’

The background melody is back, but all he sees is Deidre raising her sword and he raises his in return. He doesn’t give her a chance to speak. Doesn’t give her a chance to get a swing in. Slices into her like she’s made of nothing more than air. The blood sprays everywhere. Covers him from head to toe. He revels in it.

I need no soft lights to enchant me  
If you will only grant me  
The right to hold you ever so tight  
And to feel in the night  
The nearness of you.'

Eskel slowly wakes up to Jaskier running fingers through his hair and singing a gentle lullaby. The faint melody from his sleep. It's disconcerting as he'd just been reliving terrible memories and concocting gruesome new fantasies. He's shocked that he hadn't violently woken up and hurt the bard. When he goes to sit up and actually check, Jaskier gently pushes him back down into his lap. He continues to sing, keeps his fingers in his hair and his voice soft. It feels nice and though Eskel is cold with sweat and his heartbeat is still elevated, the song and touch are comforting. Every nightmare is still there though, running around in his head.

"Jas?" Gods, his voice sounds worse than gravel.

"You're okay, Dearheart." It's the only reply he receives besides Jaskier leaning down to kiss him on the forehead. He shouldn't be the one getting comforted. He should be the one comforting. He isn’t deserving of this comfort, not after what he dreamed about Jaskier.

"'M sorry." The hands stop petting and Eskel immediately regrets saying anything. He wants the touch to stay even though he knows he shouldn't be receiving it right now. Maybe Jaskier just realized he doesn't deserve it? Maybe he'll leave him in bed and go about his daily business.

"Why are you sorry? You didn't really hurt me. I’m sorry I couldn’t wake you up and stop it.” Thd bard sounds miserable and guilty, but his hand goes back to its stroking.

"You don't need to help relax me. I haven't earned your touch after that." The witcher says sullenly. He wants the touch. He wants the song. He does not deserve the touch. He is too monstrous for the lullabies. Why is this so hard. Eskel feels pitiful and drained. The bard makes a choked off noise and violently shakes his head.

"I'll comfort you all I like, Eskel. You comfort me all the time. You bring me down from panic attacks and bandage me when I harm myself. Why shouldn't I do the same for you? I care so much for you. I told you I do. You deserve my care." It's decisive and the tone Jaskier uses is the kind he used when trying to dissuade students from arguing.

The next thing he knows, his bard has a wet cloth running down his face and Eskel isn't sure what to do. He’s vastly uncomfortable and wants to sink into what Jaskier is offering. He also wants to argue with how ridiculous the singer is being. Of course he helps the bard. Jaskier deserves all the love and affection that can possibly be given to one person. He’s wonderful and giving...But, the nightmare.

“I know what you’re thinking about and you need to stop it.” Jaskier’s voice sounds tight, like he might cry, like he's hurting, and it’s then that Eskel notices the blossoming bruise taking shape on his face. Large, purple, and spanning from under his jaw and over the side of his lip to the bottom of his nose. Eskel pushes himself up and away so fast that he tangles himself in the blankets. Jaskier sighs loudly and his shoulders slump.

“I did hurt you. Whirlwind. I hurt you. I did. Gods, I-” Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He physically harmed his bard. This is just as bad as the nightmare. No, this is worse. This is real. The look on his face must be one of horror, horror at himself. The loathing he’s starting to spiral into is terrible and he feels so tense. Jaskier is bruised, _because of him._ What else could he do without meaning to? What could he do while meaning to? If he was capable of it, he’d vomit right now. Jaskier is still holding the wet cloth, grasping it to himself and biting his lip. He can't hurt the one he feels for.

"Love, it's okay. It doesn't hurt much. I already put some healing salve on it. Please come back here." Jaskier is desperate, but Eskel's eyes are stuck on the bruise and he's not responding.

"Eskel. I'm okay, really."

"I could do it again." Eskel's fist clenches in the blanket.

"What? No you wouldn't." Jaskier tries to keep the exasperation out of his voice. He wishes that he had super healing so that his Eskel had never seen the bruise. At least it wasn't something worse.

"I could really hurt you and then you'd leave me or you'd be dead. Or a specter and I'd have to kill you again. What if? I dreamt I'd tortured you. You should be terrified of me. What if I did torture you? What if I accidentally ran you through. What if I had another nightmare and you were right there again. What if-" Eskel is the one talking a mile a minute this time, eyes still drawn to the bruise.

"What if the moon fell out of the sky and all the oceans swallowed the continent whole?" Jaskier stops his ramble with a gentling no nonsense voice and walks slowly on his knees to the witcher. "It was an accident and that was a nightmare. You care deeply for me and I care deeply for you. We wouldn't intentionally hurt each other, Sweet." Jaskier runs a hand over the side of Eskel's face. The witcher flinches and the bard huffs.

"Let me take care of you, please. You deserve to be cared for. I'm not scared of you. I just want to take care of you, Love. Let me?"

It takes long minutes, that feel like hours to the him, before Eskel reluctantly nods his head. Jaskier keeps his movements ever slow, because that nod had been anything but a happy agreement.

"Can we take your shirt off, Dearheart. It's a bit crusty." Eskel hadn't even noticed his clothing in all his rush, but he nods nonetheless. He's still pretty stuck on the bards face. "I need to wipe you down, Sweet. Check you over for any wounds you might have given yourself." Jaskier is using a soft voice still as he moves the blanket away and slowly starts to lift Eskel's shirt up and over his head. It's uncomfortable to have the witcher so silent. He's more silent than anyone Jaskier has ever talked to, which is truly saying something.

When the shirt comes completely off, he throws it in a heap off the side of the bed. Eskel shivers and Jaskier immediately moves back over to him, cloth in hand. "I'm going to wipe some of the sweat off of you. We're going to take a bath in a little while, okay?" The witcher makes a noise and Jaskier can't decide if it's a yes or no. His Darling has bruises on his chest and lower. True they'll be gone in hours and whether Jaskier does anything for them right now isn't really the point. He's going to regardless. The bard runs his fingers over the witcher's collar bones and whimpers when Eskel sucks in a breath.

"It's okay. I'm here, Darling. Don't worry, please. You deserve me." Eskel thinks he doesn't still, but he won't say it. He wants to be able to tell his bard, his Whirlwind...but he can't. They're supposed to be able to talk about this and he can't. He just can't 

"I'm going to start a bath in the wash room. I'll be right back, okay? I'm not leaving for more than 10 minutes." Jaskier gives him a weak smile, but Eskel is already falling back into his head. 

He never should have allowed the bard to join him on his journeys. He should have left him in that little village. This is too dangerous. He's too dangerous. Too many mistakes. Monsters. Blood. Pain. Death. He is more a monster than Jaskier ever could be. This isn't the life for a ray of sunshine like him. Jaskier might say he deserves it and of course he had agreed when they had talked...but that nightmare.

What if Jaskier died with him? What if the last thing Jaskier ever experienced in the world was Eskel's failure to protect and provide for him? The longer Eskel thinks about it, the more he feels his heart clench and his eyes burn. He feels so heavy. His chest is so tight.. He feels like he wants to hit something. He doesn't really think about it when his fist swings out and connects with the wall. The wood splintering isn't half as satisfying as it should be and only leaves him with more guilt. The fact that Jaskier returns at that exact moment does absolutely nothing to help.

"Oh, Sweet." The bard doesn’t even sound like he's admonishing, just sounds upset on his behalf. "Are you ready to try a bath...Maybe we can get your hand bandaged up?" Jaskier steps close to the witcher slumped against the bedpost and tries to move him by putting an arm under his.

"Eskel, I need you to help me. You are much heavier than I am. Can you help me get you to the bath?" Can he help Jaskier do what? He really is too big for the bard. Too bulky, too heavy. He could squish him without a thought. Fuck, he could really do something like that, get angry and just...squish, squash, crush a windpipe. Why is he thinking that? "Sweet, help me get you to the bath. We can get clean."

When Eskel finally does manage to get himself pulled to his feet, Jaskier sends a short glance back to the hole he left behind and then moves the witcher into the other room, deftly removing his small clothes when they get close to the bath. "Climb in please." It's hard to do this. Eskel's still quiet, so quiet. Jaskier has never had to bring a person out of something like this before. When the witcher steps into the water without complaint, Jaskier decides to remove his own clothes and quickly step in behind him.

He grabs the oil and a fresh cloth, legs moving to wrap around the witcher. He at least seems to react to that, jumping and then settling against. He still seems in his head. The oil goes on the cloth and Jaskier is careful how he runs it down Eskel's shoulders and back. Tender and slow.

"You don't have to be a hero to save the world  
It doesn't make you a narcissist to love yourself  
It feels like nothing is easy it'll never be  
That's alright, let it out, talk to me," 

"You don't have to be a prodigy to be unique  
You don't have to know what to say or what to think  
You don't have to be anybody you can never be  
That's alright, let it out, talk to me," 

"Anxiety tossing turning in your sleep  
Even if you run away you still see them in your dreams  
It's so dark tonight, but you'll survive certainly  
It's alright, come inside, and talk to me," 

Jaskier takes a cup and pours water through his hair. Gods, this is different from their usual baths, none of the usual tension at all. Fingers run through wet strands. Humming in the back of his throat. Eskel is paying the vaguest attention, his hand barely holding onto the bard's knee. He doesn't deserve Jaskier's melodies, but the song is soothing, so he won't complain.

"We can talk here on the floor  
On the knees, if you prefer  
I'll be here until you're okay  
Let your words release your pain  
You and I will share the weight  
Growing stronger day by day," 

"It's so dark outside tonight  
Build a fire warm and bright  
And the wind it howls and bites  
Bite it back with all your might," 

The words are a little too close to home for him, but his muscles are relaxing into Jaskier without permission and he can feel the bard smile against the back of his neck. "It's okay, Eskel. You know it's okay." It's not really okay. He can try to believe it's okay, but it's so hard. Jaskier runs a cloth over his chest and the bruise on his collarbone. "One accident doesn't mean there will be more. I'm sturdy. You know I am and I forgive you for this." Another run of the cloth. Eskel makes a pitiful noise and lays his head back.

"Anxiety tossing turning in your sleep  
Even if you run away you still see them in your dreams  
It's so dark tonight  
It looks nice, fall asleep  
It's alright, come inside  
And talk to me." 

Eskel shuts his eyes and Jaskier pets along his face. It's soft, and sweet, and gentle. "Will you try to talk to me? Try not to weather this alone?" Jaskier's whispering in his ear and Eskel gives him a resigned sigh. He still doesn't know if he's here with Jaskier, or there in the nightmares, or if it will be a terrible blend of both.

"My nightmare was...memories, warped ones," He starts off. Jaskier has taken to rubbing the cloth anywhere he can reach in circular motions. He makes a humming noise, approving of Eskel opening up. "I was being put through thd trial again...but then, then it was you and…" He chokes. The bard grabs the witcher's hand off his knee and shifts to place it over his heart. 

"Not dead, Sweet." The _thump thump thump_ is relaxing.

"I tortured you. I enjoyed it. Tied you down. Burned you up." Eskel is starting to get rigid again so Jaskier pulls him back against his chest. The nightmare, no matter how vaguely Eskel explains it, sounds horrid and makes him want to shiver...but he won't, because right now isn't about him.

"Just a nightmare. Not all nightmares are based in fact or foretell the future. Deep down you know that's true." Jaskier's hand runs along the witchers ribcage. "If I thought all my nightmares would become truth, then I'd likely never have met you. Likely not have lived this long." More tender touches along his sternum and waist. Eskel's heart jumps at his bard saying that. It makes sense with how Jaskier's moods get, but the thought that the bard would have killed himself is one that makes him ill. 

"Can I sing to you some more? I know it relaxes you sometimes." Eskel barely nods, leans further back, legs splaying, and lets Jaskier wrap himself as much as he can around him. He doesn’t really sing so much as recite the words in his ear like poetry, a whispering lilt. 

"At times I just don't know  
How you could be anything but beautiful  
I think that I was made for you  
And you were made for me," 

"And I know that I won't ever change  
'Cause we've been friends  
Through rain or shine  
For such a long, long time," 

"Laughing eyes and smiling face  
It seems so lucky just to have the right  
Of telling you with all my might  
You're beautiful tonight," 

"And I know that you will never stray  
'Cause you've been that way  
From day to day  
For such a long, long time," 

"And when you hold me tight  
How could life be anything but beautiful  
I think that I was made for you  
And you were made for me," 

"And I know that I won't ever change  
'Cause we've been friends  
Through rain or shine  
For such a long, long time," 

"And I must say it means so much to me  
To be the one who's telling you  
I'm telling you  
That you're beautiful." 

Jaskier keeps hands on him and keeps legs tucked around him. It feels like Eskel might finally be relaxing completely. A good thing as the bard isn't sure what else he can really do that would be helpful in this situation.

"Are you ready to trust me about all this yet?" Jaskier's hand moves to cup his face again and he presses his own cheek to Eskel's. His face hurts.

The truth is that the witcher still doesn't feel completely sure about anything. He's still a little lost about it all. Still worried about everything. He wants to trust in his bard though. They did say they would do that for each other. He just hadn't thought it would be so soon. Eskel sighs.

"I want to trust you. I want everything to be okay. I don't want to fall asleep and have that nightmare again. I don't want to turn your face a darker shade than it already is." He sounds croaky and resigned. Jaskier shakes his head and extricates himself from around the witcher, stepping out of the tub and kneeling next to it.

"You can kiss my bruises better, Dearheart. I think we do need to try to go back to sleep though. It might help you with how frazzled your nerves are." The singer quirks his lips in a half smile and holds a hand out in invitation. Eskel grabs it with a frown, pulling himself from the tub.

\--

The bed is cold when they return to it. The hole is still there, splintered and gaping. Pillows are strewn all about. Clothing thrown haphazard on the floor. Jaskier dresses Eskel in soft new sleep clothes and then dresses himself. He rearranges the blankets and pillows on top of the bed and sits Eskel at the edge of it all, grabbing their medicine bag in the process. 

"I know you don't need it, but I'm going to bandage your hand." It's not voiced as a question and the bard goes about it with tender precision. When he finishes he pulls the witcher into bed, pushing him to the inside and wrapping himself around the witcher like Eskel is something worth protecting from the world.

It's hard to sleep. Jaskier hums softly and pets down his arm, gentling him when his heartbeat picks up, but it's still so difficult. It takes almost an hour for his mind to settle enough for him to sleep. He doesn’t have a nightmare this time. A shock. He dreams about music being sung on a hillside, flowers dancing among green, green grass, and sun shining through tree leaves. It may be the calmest dream he's ever had. He's sure that Jaskier is the cause of it.

\--

Far into the afternoon the duo find themselves not at a tavern but in the university courtyard, surrounded by all manner of student and professional. Jaskier calls it a friendly competition. Priscilla calls it a way to knock students down a peg or 2. They both agree that it's all in good fun. Eskel has watched 5 different students play instruments from citole to harp. It's good fun and better distraction. Jaskier has been pampering and caring for him the whole day and its a complete script flip from their usual. It's odd, but he won't stop the bard from doing it. He'd just end up getting that crushed look.

"I bought some apple muffins, Sweet. Try one? Or a chocolate bun. It's not dinner, but I can get that later. I just thought you might like something sweet." Eskel takes the muffins and leaves the bun for Jaskier. The bard likes chocolate after all. So far only 2 people had asked Jaskier about his bruise, both had received an answer of "Smacked my face falling out of bed." Not the truth. It hurts to hear him lie. If he told the truth though…

"Do you want stew or maybe roasted rabbit for dinner? Maybe some meat pies instead? I know a place that does amazing things with their vegetables."

Eskel doesn’t get a chance to reply or dwell in his thoughts because Priscilla starts talking then, about going up to sing a song. Jaskier is thrilled at the thought and goes to hold Eskel's hand. On impulse, the witcher intertwines their fingers. His bard gives him a sunshine smile for it.

Priscilla sings about finding new love and the warmth that comes with it. It's a good song, a happy song. The crowd definitely loves it and it makes Eskel feel fuzzy. Fuzzy enough that he doesn’t think, just leans over to give Jaskier a kiss on his uninjured cheek. The flush it causes the singer is truly magnificent.It looks a bit like Jaskier might be the one who's frazzled now. A little jittery and buzzing with energy.

"You seem happier, Love." He tries to say it using that off-hand tone, the one that really doesn't hide any of his underlying feelings. Happy, worried, cautious, loving.

"I think you helped with that." It's honest, the witcher isn't feeling completely better, but Jaskier did help as much as a little shifter without the full story could.

The kiss planted on the corner of his lips is worth the answer and the pride and delight on Jaskier's face even more so. It's nice to give Jaskier that. It helps him feel less like he doesn't deserve to be in the bard's presence right now. Like he's worthy of the affection being freely given by the one he adores.

"I like helping you. I like being let in so I _can_ help you. I like that you're trying to follow what we talked about."

Priscilla comes back to them then holding three cups of some sort of Redanian wine which she hands off to them both. She's got a nice performance sheen of sweat on her face. She hasn't bothered with any of her lewd commentary tonight and Eskel is pretty sure he knows why, but no one besides the people from earlier have brought attention to it. Jaskier hadn't been lying about the salve, it has helped somewhat. The witcher will be taking complete care of him and his bruises later tonight whether he complains about it or not. The guilt will get to him otherwise.

"Did we pick what we're having for dinner?" She asks and they both look to him. He's still eating the snack Jaskier brought him, but he does know one thing for sure.

"Nothing bloody, nothing burnt, nothing that comes presented on slabs of wood." Jaskier's face goes sympathetic and he squeezes Eskel's hand before turning to face Priscilla across the table.

"Stew. Marja has a great stew doesn't she? And she does the sweet rolls too?" His bard's voice is a little too enthusiastic. He still has a comforting grip on him though. Eskel holds him just as tightly and is even more thankful for the man. The witcher wouldn't have thought of stew. He likely wouldn't have eaten, would have stayed alone in his bedroll all day and night given the chance.

"Stew sounds delicious. Heat is good for the throat after performing. I'm sure our dear Buttercup has told you so. He used to drink this absolutely atrocious tea. Smelled utterly disgusting."

"It worked."

"Well yes, but it killed everyone's sinuses in the near vicinity."

"It was that bad?"

"Yes." It's a simultaneous answer from Eskel and Priscilla. Jaskier looks offended and guilty.

"It's okay Whirlwind, I just sharpen my swords while you brew and drink it...Sort of cancels it out. Kind of." Eskel says quickly to reassure him. Why did he open his mouth?

"I can start drinking it downstairs when we're at inns, instead of in the room and brew and drink it while you hunt, when we camp? That way I can have it, but it doesn't bother you so much." _I don’t want to burden my witcher, but I will not give this up._

"Jaskier, it's okay. Your tea won't kill me." _Please don't change because of me._

Priscilla watches the back and forth with growing interest, hands going to rest under her chin.

"You admitted your feelings for each other." Eskel clams up and Jaskier chokes.

"I- You- Yes, yes we did."

"I'm glad you listened to us, Dear Witcher. Now, on to stew."

Well wasn't that an underreaction? Bards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Nearness Of You - Norah Jones  
> Talk To Me - Cavetown  
> Beautiful - Gordon Lightfoot
> 
> I'm sorry for taking forever :/
> 
> And I'm even sorrier if it sucks, cause writing on a phone sucks. Tell me if there are typos?
> 
> And I'm sorry it's got an abrupt end.


	17. Like The Love I Get From You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Look, my brain went through like 3 ideas for this chapter before I had to completely swap the plan for the next 2 chapters, because I couldn't get myself to write them.
> 
> If you see typos, its because I'm hopped up on emergency meds and seeing double. Deuces.

The next day dawns dreary and wet with Jaskier tunneled deep under the covers, arms slipped tightly around Eskel's chest. The witcher keeps his own arm held loosely around Jaskier's shoulders and watches the way the covers rise and lower with each of his breaths. It's soothing to see the bard at peace and to get the chance to hold him right now. Eskel has yet to process yesterday, not keen to fall too far back into that darkness. Jaskier would be so unhappy if he did after all 

The bard snorts out a breath and burrows his face further into the witcher's side, deep, deep snuffles following where his face has been squashed against his body. It's endearing and if Eskel had a way to capture the moment, he would. Though Jaskier probably wouldn't appreciate the reminder of his drooling. Oh well, still sweet. Eskel runs his hand back and forth along his shoulder blades and down his arm, waiting patiently for the bard to rise. He does have a class to teach in an hour after all.

Jaskier rises slowly, bed-head peeking out from the covers first, followed by a bruised face crusted with drying spittle. He looks like he slept harder than if he'd been given a sleeping drought. Eskel's eyes drift to the bruise before Jaskier clears his throat and gives him a tiny reassuring smile. At least it is sort-of starting to yellow at the edges. Thank the Gods for healing salves. This will still be hard to explain away to his students.

"Morning, Darling." Jaskier has a scratch to his voice and Eskel gives him a smile for it. "Sleep okay?"

"I slept...Okay...No nightmares at least." Eskel gives a soft reply, because it's morning and there's no reason to break the calm yet.

"No nightmares is good. I shall sing you to sleep more often, I think." The bard gives him a sweet little smile and a kiss to his chin. "I really do like taking care of you like that. I want to keep doing it."

"...I like the lullabies. I love your singing." It's not agreement to having more of them sung to him, but Jaskier will probably take it that way anyway, stubborn as the man is.

"I know you love my singing, Sweet. I'm beyond grateful to have a person like you appreciate it." Eskel shifts, uncomfortable at that and Jaskier frowns. "...I mean that, you know how few people I'm close to like it and you are so important." It makes him feel warm with affection, but still full of discomfort.

"You'll be late for your lecture unless you start getting ready now, Whirlwind." Eskel changes the subject and sits them both up, blanket wrapped firmly around the bard. Jaskier looks a little confused for a second, but then the look is gone and he's climbing from their cocoon and over to their clothes. Jaskier shoots him barely there looks as he dresses. Light purple shirt. Plum doublet and pants. Dark boots. A good look on him.

"You've got...on your chin." Eskel motions to the drool. Jaskier's ears go pink and he scrubs the crusted spit off, giving the witcher a sheepish chuckle as he does. He still has the most unruly bed-head. 

\--

They head off after Eskel gets dressed. Entering his lecture hall goes about as well as he thought it would. Students are quiet when they see his face. Their eyes shift between him and the witcher, unsettled. It's upsetting and something Jaskier feels like he needs to address immediately. He doesn’t get a chance to.

"...I had a nightmare...and he was a little too close." Eskel speaks up, voice catching on a few of the words nervously, like he's waiting for screaming and insults to start.

The class goes completely silent save for one or two students clearing their throats. The witcher hasn't exactly talked to any of them before after all, and to just admit that he'd hit Master Jaskier… Well, it's hard to process. Jaskier chokes off an upset sound in his throat and goes to entwine their fingers. Comfort.

"Accidents happen. Right, class?" He gives them a pointed look until they all turn back to the front. Eskel is pulled along to sit near Jaskier's favored teaching spot.

"Now," Jaskier claps his hands and gives everyone his most cheerful smile, "let's discuss lullabies and positive songs today. Is that alright?"

"Master Jaskier, does it hurt to talk right now?"

"Oh yes, Master Jaskier, if it does we don't have to do class today. We could do a lecture tomorrow?"

"As kind as that thought is Dameta, my face only aches somewhat." Jaskier sends a quick look Eskel's way. The witcher frowns. "I'm fine for discussions today, though my singing may be a tad stilted."

"If you say so, Sir. We just don't want you to get more hurt. Remember when you came back after that one adventure. The bruxa...Or was it a barghest? You had to take a break from your travels with G-...I mean...Because your throat was all bruised and you were having a terrible time of it."

Jaskier looks a little sick after Theophania talks and Eskel immediately wants to go to him, but doesn't. He isn't wanting for more stares from the students. A bruxa or a barghest? Did his friend really bring him around all that and not try and protect him? There _are_ scars on his neck. Were they from that? How did his friend even survive it? Maybe he's a mage? Or immortal?

"I remember Miss Theophania, yes. My Sweet is not a barghest, so did not do near as much damage as a monster could. In fact, less than some humans have done to me." Words that are a little too telling and would invite more questions from the crowd if not for Jaskier turning his back to them and writing lyrics out on the board to be read.

Insinuating he wasn't a monster to so many humans and then telling them that humans had hurt him more. It leaves him feeling off. It's one thing to say it between the two of them. One thing to defend him in a bar by saying it to a drunk patron. But casually speaking it aloud to a group. It makes his heart pound. Hearing that humans had hurt him more, and remembering all he's said of his father and how that is probably only some of what he means, leaves the witcher upset.

"Now, for our first lullaby of the day, I thought we'd discuss a children's song. My governess used to sing it to me. Quite calming with the young ones."

"Blackbird singing in the dead of night  
Take these broken wings and learn to fly  
All your life  
You were only waiting for this moment to arise

Blackbird singing in the dead of night  
Take these sunken eyes and learn to see  
All your life  
You were only waiting for this moment to be free

Blackbird fly, blackbird fly  
Into the light of a dark black night

Blackbird fly, blackbird fly  
Into the light of a dark black night

Blackbird singing in the dead of night  
Take these broken wings and learn to fly  
All your life

You were only waiting for this moment to arise  
You were only waiting for this moment to arise  
You were only waiting for this moment to arise."

"Oh, Master Jaskier, that's so pretty." A petite blond in a corner chair spoke up.

"Yes, dear Alka. The song is very pretty and has a repetitive nature, so easy for children to be lulled by. Adults too." Jaskier shoots a smile Eskel's way as he had used the song last night on him.

The group nods, some jotting down notes and the lyrics, as well as what Jaskier has told them. The bard waits until they're all finished before he wipes everything away with a cloth and moves on to the next song, pulling his lute to himself.

"Who's to say  
What's impossible  
Well they forgot  
This world keeps spinning  
And with each new day  
I can feel a change in everything  
And as the surface breaks, reflections fade  
But in some ways they remain the same  
And as my mind begins to spread its wings  
There's no stopping curiosity

I want to turn the whole thing upside down  
I'll find the things they say just can't be found  
I'll share this love I find with everyone  
We'll sing and dance to Mother Nature's songs  
I don't want this feeling to go away

Who's to say  
I can't do everything  
Well I can try  
And as I roll along I begin to find  
Things aren't always just what they seem

I want to turn the whole thing upside down  
I'll find things they say just can't be found  
I'll share this love I find with everyone  
We'll sing and dance to Mother Nature's songs  
This world keeps spinning and there's no time to waste  
Well it all keeps spinning spinning round and round and

Upside down  
Who's to say what's impossible and can't be found  
I don't want this feeling to go away  
Please don't go away  
Please don't go away  
Please don't go away  
Is this how it's supposed to be  
Is this how it's supposed to be."

There are a few claps and someone from the back shout something that sounds vaguely like "Franciszek." Jaskier grins and nods his head quickly.

"A favorite song of his. He was quite popular in his time. I happen to love it, even if I am a fan of making my own." The bard winks and the class laughs.

"Now, this is the last one, my jaw is getting to be a bit sore...and My Sweet and I need to see about speaking with the dean. We may be leaving earlier than expected, after all." Eskel jolts at the statement. Since when were they leaving? Was Jaskier upset? Did he want to leave because of that? Get away from the humans even though he claimed he wasn't a monster? The bard starts singing and the witcher can feel himself relax, but just barely.

"When you walk through a storm  
Hold your head up high  
And don't be afraid of the dark

At the end of a storm  
There's a golden sky  
And the sweet silver song of a Lark

Walk on through the wind  
Walk on through the rain  
Though your dreams be tossed and blown

Walk on, walk on  
With hope in your heart  
And you'll never walk alone

You'll never walk alone

Walk on, walk on  
With hope in your heart  
And you'll never walk alone

You'll never walk alone."

The witcher blinked and pursed his lips, looking for all the world like a confused puppy. That song was...very close to personal and Jaskier was staring straight at him, like this was an important thing to get. The bard tilted his head toward the lyrics on the board and continued to look at him, lips tilting in a half smile. Oh. Of course. Eskel felt himself smile faintly in response, because of course Jaskier wrote him a lullaby. He wasn't upset with him, just ready to move on.

"Master Jaskier, an original?" Leofrick throws out curiously.

"I played around with it yesterday and perfected it this morning. This is the first I've written it down or sung it." Jaskier's eyes are still on Eskel, soft and innocent.

"We'll be sad to see you go." Dameta frowns, eyes tearing.

Jaskier's eyes shift back to the class and he moves their way. "I won't be gone forever. My Witcher is much more accommodating than my last companion. I'm sure I'll return more often." It does little to make them feel better. Eskel can smell the salt in the air when they take turns hugging or getting gentlemanly hand kisses from the bard before taking their leave.

The singer turns toward him when the last is gone and gives him his own low-spirited smile.

"I will miss them, but I think perhaps that we are ready for the coast. Don't you?"

"You wrote me a lullaby." That's not the answer Jaskier is is expecting, but he huffs out a laugh and walks over to Eskel, wrapping his arms around him when he gets near.

"I wanted to have one just for you, for when you were hurting again, and I wanted them to understand exactly how much you mean to me and how little this means in the grand scheme of that." He points to the bruise. Eskel ftowns, one arm around Jaskier and the other moving to touch his face. It's not a complete truth, but he'll try to believe it.

\--

"So you see, I'm terribly sorry, but we must be getting back on the Path." Jaskier smiles easily with the dean over a small glass of wine. The man is sitting across from him with a disappointed, yet resigned look on his face. He nods and gives Eskel a look before turning back to the bard.

"He'll treat you better than he did right?" Its whispered, but Jaskier frowns, knowing Eskel has heard it anyway.

"I'll be safe with him."

"Oh, physically, I'm sure." There's a pointed look toward the bruise and Jaskier's frown deepens. His smell goes practically acrid. "I mean your heart. That emotionally constipated frustration left you in such a mess for so long." The dean's voice is growing steadily louder and Jaskier moves the bottle further from him.

"Yes, well, my heart is perfectly warm and cozy with my Eskel. I trust that." Eskel looks away and smiles to himself. The complete faith from Jaskier is moving.

The dean seems put off of whatever snit he might have been on his way tobutting himself into, but nods his head anyway and gives Jaskier a handshake. "If you believe so. Our doors and your rooms are always open Master Jaskier."

It's like Jaskier's whirlwind emotions in conversation form and Eskel is glad when they leave the office and move on to their rooms. Jaskier immediately starts fluttering about to pack things in saddlebags and satchels, counting things off as he goes.

"Kitten," A new nickname, "Slow down a second, please." Jaskier stops rather quickly and turns to look at him, a pretty blush painting his cheeks. Eskel looks a little sheepish for it and takes a couple strides over to him before he can get completely jittery and stop himself. Jaskier deserves what he's about to do and maybe he does too.

Eskel's hand moves to hold at the bard's neck, the other sliding into his hair. Jaskier's hands move to hold at Eskel's waist automatically and he blinks at him, blush reaching to his ears. Liking him. Taking care of him through panic. Writing him a lullaby to sing to him at night. Defending him to an elder. Trusting his heart to Eskel.

"Can I ki-" That's as far as he gets with his whispered question for consent before Jaskier is the one moving their bodies together and pressing lips to his. Eskel's fingers thread through the shifters hair and he clenches them when the kiss deepens. Jaskier chokes a moan. Not what he'd intended when he'd initiated this. He had just wanted something deeper, more than their innocent pecks. Jaskier is so warm though, his lips so soft.

He smells and tastes like arousal, heady- cinnamon and cloves, an underlying sweetness. Jaskier's tongue brushes along his bottom lip slowly and Eskel's mouth opens. He slants his head, leaning closer. Jaskier makes an approving sound in his throat and his tongue delves in, dancing along the witcher's. The shifter is panting into the kiss, heartbeat rabbiting against him. Eskel's hand holds firmer at his neck and Jaskier's breath hitches. The witcher is burning at the noises he makes.

Nails turn to claws at his sides, pricking into his shirt and the teeth moving with his tongue slowly lengthen. Eskel moans hotly into Jaskier's mouth at the feel of it which has the shifter pulling back to look at him, tongue moving to run along the fangs and head tilting for one second to long. His eyes glint mischievously and he leans back in. Instead of going for the kiss that Eskel expects, Jaskier's teeth run up and along his neck, arms tightening at his waist. Gods this should not be as hot as it is. The witcher makes another noise and then there's the feel of slippery tongue running back down, and fangs biting in. They don't bite deep enough to mark, but Jaskier licks and sucks at the area and Eskel's knees go almost completely weak.

Jaskier lands one last kiss to the hickey he's caused before he steps back, breath heavy, heart sporadic, skin sweat and hair a mess. He looks beautiful. Eskel is sure he looks quite a mess too and he knows they both have a problem that needs answering, so he goes to step forward and give a deep kiss again, except Jaskier just gives him a gentling, slow one instead. Eskel furrows his eyebrows and tries to deepen it, but Jaskier's finger presses to his lips.

"We need to pack, Love." Jaskier says breathily.

Eskel can feel how hot he is below the belt and he can smell the bards arousal still. It would only take-

"Sweet Darling Eskel, we'll lose daylight. We can, later. You kiss like a god." Jaskier moves in for another slow, gentle kiss, that does nothing to help Eskel's current situation.

\--

Some time after calming down and finishing packing away the rest of their furs and clothing, they head down to the stables. Jaskier has a pep in his step and a grasp on Eskel's hand that would almost hurt if he were human. He keeps sending the witcher brilliant, sunny smiles that leave Eskel feeling light too. If this is what if feels like after stealing Jaskier's breath away with a kiss, he will definitely be doing it more often.

Jaskier greets their horses with buzzing energy, brushing them down and singing to them about the apples he gives them. Eskel moves about the area around the three, hands running over the bard's back as he shifts around. Jaskier turns, blush from earlier returning and Eskel's mouth goes into an upturn at the corner.

"We need to see Priscilla and get on the road before nightfall, Kitten."

The automatic response to the nickname is still interesting. The shifter's heartbeat elevates and he sucks in a small breath, nodding faintly. Eskel gives him his own small smile.

"...So," Jaskier's heartbeat settles somewhat and he turns back to Hellebore, "the new nickname and new kisses?" Jaskier is beyond curious and beyond into it all. Honestly he had not expected Eskel to be the one to try and move the relationship further, not so soon...The new nickname is, well, he's going to have quite a few feelings over it, most assuredly.

"I needed, you're just- You are very you." Eskel fumbles a buckle and laughs nervously. Leave it to Jaskier to bring it up instead of just going with it. He wouldn't be so special if he wasn't like that. "I couldn't, not do it." It's a pitiful answer, but Jaskier throws his arms about Eskel's neck in a hug and presses a kiss to his nose anyway.

They pull themselves onto their horses, Eskel thrumming after the innocent kiss and Jaskier still blushing pink in happiness.The ride to Priscilla's is a fast one and she's already outside to greet them like it's an it's super power she holds. Jaskier slides off first, Eskel following, and the two walk with her into the nearby street. Another one of those cart-filled ones. She pulls a satchel from seemingly nowhere and hands it off to Jaskier and the bard immediately sets about picking up different foods for the beginning of their trip.

Priscilla chooses to walk with Eskel and he shoots he questioning looks for the next few seconds.

"Witcher, I know I've mentioned a lot about his heart. I'm sure many have. I beg of you to keep it close and keep it safe. He deserves to have that and you do as well. Be good to each other." Eskel's eyebrows furrow, but he gives her an understanding nod.

"And if you do not, I will write the most scathing song any witcher had experienced and the whole continent will know of it." Priscilla laughs, voice sweet as sugar dumplings. The witcher's eyes go wide.

"I want to keep him safe and warm, and his heart close to me at all times." He touches where the necklace is under his shirt, safe from harm.

"Well, fantastic then." Priscilla claps and turns toward Jaskier whose bag looks much, much heavier. Eskel immediately goes to take it. The singer sends him a grateful look before his attention is caught by Priscilla.

"Calonetta, my sweet. I will miss you so while we are away." Jaskier bows, voice moving into the dramatics of flirting with tavern girls. Priscilla scofffs and bats at his head.

"Buttercup, a hug l if you please. I shan't be swooning for you again." Jaskier pulls her into the tightest of hugs and crushes a kiss to her cheek. Priscilla turns to Eskel and hugs him a little gentler next.

"Please, remain safe on your Path. I'll need more inspiration next you visit " Jaskier chuckles, and then he is pulling Eskel away, excited to finally be leaving and to have his witcher alone and to himself again.

Their horses move at a steady trot out of Oxenfurt and up Northward, not quite to the coast yet, but soon. Jaskier's enthusiasm, and maybe some sadness, is growing at a steady pace. Each look at Eskel makes the enthusiasm grow higher.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blackbirds - The Beatles  
> Upside Down - Jack Johnson  
> You'll Never Walk Alone - Gerry and The Pacemakers
> 
> Sorry if took a while.
> 
> Thank you Jaskel discord for keeping my mood and motivation working.


	18. I Promise This Fic Won't Die

For anyone who is maybe a little worried or a little upset with how long it has been since an update, please don't be.

I promise the fic isn't dead or going to die. Don't unsub or lose faith.

I'm just trying to rewrite past chapters because I need to fix some things that were displeasing to me or that were going to lead to future plot/writing issues. 

Again, the fic isn't dying and I'm not going to leave you all hanging, I swear. I'm just...snails pace writing and struggling a little with the muse for it.

I have great people helping and cheering me on when I do manage to write and that is honestly a huge help and focus,, so...

I love everyone reading this <3

Hopefully the story will be rolling along again soon :)


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